When Sakura Blossoms Fall
by Maeli
Summary: The experiences of one young redheaded swordsman, and the proof that even the coldest hearts can be conquered with the passing of time and the help of the right individual.
1. The Love of a Manslayer

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 1: The Love of a Manslayer**

One awkwardly conspicuous figure dragged behind his fellow travelers as the ship's colossal hull was emptied of its plethora of passengers. He staggered weakly forward, his footsteps as unsure as those of an inexperienced toddler, his dull eyes fixed firmly on the ground as he struggled through each difficult, energy-sapping step. Was this truly the soil of Japan?

It was, wasn't it? After all this time, he was finally _home_. He suddenly felt an inexplicable desire to drop to his knees in exhaustion and just savor the reality of it all.

_No, I have to keep walking . . . there's something here . . . someone . . . waiting . . ._

At an unknown distance away lay a tired woman, snug within the wooden wall of her once lively dojo. Kaoru cracked her heavy eyelids open slowly, allowing just a thin slit of her sapphire eyes to be visible and exposed to the room's dim light. Slowly, and exerting more effort than such a simple motion should have required, she pushed her frail body into a sitting position for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. She laid one palm flat against the floor to prevent herself from falling dizzily back onto her futon. After a few moments in which she took a few deep breaths, assuring herself that she could go through with this, she moved both legs and forced herself to stand shakily. She stumbled sideways almost instantly, and grasped the wall to remain upright. She leaned heavily against the fusama, breathing raggedly and suddenly wondering if this was all complete foolishness.

She shook her head, and a fraction of the vivacity that had once lit her eyes returned for a moment. Why shouldn't she go to the docks? She wasn't going to lose faith in him yet.

Silently she slid the fusama open far enough to peek into the hallway. Once assured that no one that would attempt to hinder her was present, she pushed the door completely aside and tripped out of her room, still dressed in only her white yukata.

She had to go to him. If asked she wouldn't have been able to explain why, but it was as if some unseen power was drawing her away, toward the ocean where she had so diligently awaited her swordsman's return for so long, toward _him_.

She used all of her weight to heave the gate open when she reached the dojo's courtyard, then began to half-walk and half-stumble down the familiar route to the sea. The furiously determined woman ignored the racking pain throughout her body as every part of her but her memories protested to her current endeavor.

He was coming. He was coming! She couldn't give up waiting on him now; she had to believe that he would finally return at this moment, in her darkest hour. He was coming. She _knew_ he was. He had to eventually, after all. Didn't he?

From the opposite direction on the same cherry blossom adorned road faltered an aging man in a similar condition, his skin discolored and blotched with an incurable disease, the man from the ship. His body was likewise dying, losing more color and warmth with every passing moment. His once brilliant red hair and vibrant violet eyes had faded in luster significantly with age, and his once muscular body was steadily deteriorating from the abuse and infection working to destroy it. But despite the odds piled up against him, despite the easiness of giving in to death, he continued determinedly along the nearly abandoned path, his soft hands clutching everything within reach, from the nearby wall to various trees, in a desperate effort to remain standing.

To one came tears, to the other lost memories as they finally caught sight of each other. In an urgent attempt to stay alive long enough to be reunited, they both broke into a run, though they were still comparatively slow, their feet weak and unsure.

The lingering torture both had experienced evaporated as they finally touched. Kenshin fell forward, his energy completely spent, burrowing his head into his wife.

"Kaoru," he murmured, her name rolling off of his finally loosed tongue as faded memories of their life together rushed to the front of his mind. He looked up into her eyes. "Kaoru . . . I'm home."

Kaoru smiled brightly, her eyes brimming with burning tears as she clutched him closely, unwilling to ever let go again. Despite their duller appearance, those eyes had been the only things she had wished to see for years now. Those beautiful, loving violet eyes . . .

"Welcome back . . . Shinta!" she choked out, falling to her knees and allowing her dammed up tears to leak out onto the two of them. Carefully she lowered both of them to the ground, laying Kenshin's fragile head in her lap. She noticed his small smile at being called by his name, his _real _name. A name fit for one as kind-hearted as he was.

They sat there peacefully in the middle of the road, reveling in each other's presence, the rest of the world speeding to a stop as the loving but painful reunion passed. Kaoru ran her white fingers carefully through Kenshin's dull red hair and across his deathly pale cheek, ignoring the pain this exertion had brought on her in the bittersweet joy of the moment. Her already present smile widened slightly as a cherry blossom floated downward to land near them, catching her attention, followed by several identical others.

"Cherry blossom," she murmured softly to herself, "I wonder how long they will bloom." She looked lovingly down at her resting husband, reflecting on their life together and the futures of their other loved ones.

"Kenji, Yahiko, Tsubame-chan, and Megumi, and Tae. We should _all_ go see the cherry blossoms. And next year. And the year after that." Her smile broadened once again. "Maybe by that time Yahiko will become a father."

She made a closer examination of her husband as he failed to respond. "Shinta?" she asked carefully, her smile fading in concern. There was no response from the body lying beside her. Then she saw his eyes, closed in peaceful rest. Her smile returned. "You must be tired." She pulled her weak hand away from his pallid cheek in an effort to prevent him from waking, and her eyes widened in surprise before overflowing with more hot tears.

"Finally . . ." she murmured, her throat constricting and reducing her speech to sobbing whispers, "it finally disappeared." She touched the spot on his face carefully just to make sure it was real. Sure enough, the cursed cross-shaped scar that had marred his cheek and haunted his dreams had vanished, along with his guilt . . . and his life.

Kaoru let out a choked sob, not bothering to remove her hand from his face again. She wouldn't have to worry about waking him anymore. Her lower lip began to tremble as she recognized the fact that her husband's rising and falling chest had stopped in its steady motion. Kenshin wasn't breathing.

Shinta was dead.

Kaoru dropped her head as she realized that her swordsman had finally left her, permanently this time. But she could be thankful that it was finally over. A life of sin, torment, and guilt had finally been laid to rest, no more to suffer in this cruel and unforgiving world. Her lover was finally _free_.

_Goodbye, Kenshin._

_

* * *

_Elsewhere life continued, unaware and unconcerned with the passing of perhaps one of the most legendary figures that had ever lived. But for some, the quiet ignorance wouldn't last for long. 

The sun was just beginning to dip below the western horizon as Yahiko quickly made a few purchases before heading back toward the Kamiya dojo. He glanced at the sky and smiled nostalgically, recalling days when a late dinner would have sent his intemperate sensei into a fuming rage, and she would have stormed wrathfully onto Tokyo in search of Kenshin. But those days had ended, and the handle of the tofu bucket had been passed to his hands, along with so many other chores the absent redhead had left behind. Yahiko glanced down at the worn wooden handle, running his thumb slowly across it. He sighed, his wide and powerful shoulders sagging as if born down by an unseen weight.

_Where are you, Kenshin?_

The swordsman shifted the bucket to his other hand as he turned a corner, forcing a cheerful expression onto his face as he neared the dojo. The circumstances were dire enough already. Kaoru and Kenji didn't need his sorrow to wear them down as well. But the insincere smile failed to linger.

He squinted as something caught his eye in the dying light. His strong footsteps came to a dead halt, and the bucket slipped from his fingers, its contents spilling down the front of his hakama and across the dirt path as the bucket rolled slowly to the side.

"Kaoru, _no!_"

Himura Kenji was standing in the training hall, observing the various names on the wall alongside two young comrades when his surrogate brother's anguished cry reached his ears. He glanced quickly at his companions, instructed them to remain where they were, and sprinted to the front of the dojo, slipping his feet into his zori without slowing. He thrust open the front gates just as the dark blur that was Yahiko streaked past him.

"Yahiko?"

His eyes followed the running man several yards down the road, then froze on what Yahiko had spotted, two distinct and familiar figures on the ground. His eyes widened, and his fists involuntarily clenched shut at his sides.

"Kaa-san!"

In seconds his inhuman speed had carried him to Yahiko's side. He skidded to a halt where the elder man was already kneeling, grasping a pale wrist in his hands.

Yahiko felt tears rush to his eyes as he carefully placed the limp arm across its owner's chest. The man was dead.

"Kenshin . . ." he murmured, his throat constricting. At the soft noise, Kaoru weakly lifted her head, facing her pupil with a bright smile.

"His journey is finally over," she whispered happily. She smiled one more time, then fell forward into Yahiko's arms, her energy spent.

"Kaoru—" the man whispered, a single tear slipping quickly down his tan cheek to land on Kenshin's lifeless face. He looked up at the couple's son, his eyes watering, but Kenji's cold blue eyes were fixed on the figure on the ground, a vein in his neck throbbing.

"Tou-san—" he muttered caustically, his eyes narrow in disgust and hatred. He drew his fingers into fists, purposefully this time, clenching them so hard that his nails dug painfully into his palms. Had his hands been softer, not calloused from the use of a sword, he would have drawn blood. He maliciously eyed his father's neck, picturing his rough hands around the thin and already breathless body part.

"Coward," he hissed. "You're lucky you died before I found you—"

"Kenji."

The young man shifted his burning glare from his father to Yahiko. The other swordsman's previous traces of tears had dissipated, replaced by a hard, reproving stare. Kenji caught the threat in his voice clearly enough, and turned his head away from the body in feigned indifference.

Yahiko glanced back at the couple before him, his heart heavy with grief. Carefully he lifted the unconscious Kaoru, handing her over to Kenji and lifting Kenshin himself. He wasn't about to hand over the swordsman to his bitter son, even though at this point he was beyond any harm Kenji could inflict upon him.

Kenji watched the lifeless corpse in Yahiko's arms swing limply back and forth as he followed him back to the dojo, a malignant hatred obvious in his eyes. He felt his dislike for the man burn even brighter within him, and he barely retained control of himself while watching the man to whom he owed his life. He had actually had the audacity to _return_, and then to just _die_, completely abandoning Kenji's mother with no more hope whatsoever. At least before she had held a reason to keep on living. But now his father had given up, and Kaoru was alone, with no motivation to stay alive.

Kenji pulled his eyes away from Kenshin and glanced at Kaoru, who was still unconscious in his arms. He stiffened in surprise upon laying eyes on her soft, pale face. She was . . . smiling?

Kenji felt himself slipping into a mental labyrinth. How could she be smiling in her sleep like that? She had just lost her husband, only moments after his long-awaited return, and was on her own deathbed. The expression on his mother's face, more and more uncommon as of late, was oddly haunting to him. Did she really still feel everything for him that she had when he first left, even after everything he had put her through? How could she still love him? How could she even forgive him? Kenji shook his head. It was absurd. It couldn't be a smile of joy. No, his mother had become so helpless and desperate, the expression could hardly be short of lunacy.

He walked silently after Yahiko into the walls of his home, ignoring the soft gasp of horror from the young girl with whom he had stood peacefully just minutes before.

"Kenji, I—"

A firm hand on her shoulder silenced her.

"Leave him be, Chizuru."

"But—"

The dark-haired boy beside her shook his head, and the girl sighed in quiet submission.

Kenji returned his mother to her room as Yahiko placed his father's body somewhere else, he didn't care where. He took a deep breath as he watched Kaoru, still appearing so peaceful and content. But smiling to herself wouldn't hide the truth, he thought, frowning. She was going to die as well.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I know many of you hate seeing Kenji portrayed as an arrogant brat, and believe me, that isn't my intention. I'm a full supporter of Kenji forgiving his father, but I just don't believe it would have occurred this soon in the story line. I also don't believe Kenji hated Kenshin just because he's an idiotic little adolescent (as so many assume), but because his love for his mother is so deep that he hates to see her suffer. Regardless, the fact is that Kenji hated his father. I believe the process of forgiveness would have taken a lot of experience and time. 


	2. Another Orphan

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 2: Another Orphan**

Yahiko didn't look up as the gates to the dojo squealed in protest at being opened again. The entering figure released a melancholy sigh as she closed the massive doors behind her, and slightly loosened her grip on the precious bag of medicine clutched closely to her chest. Yahiko didn't have to see the intruder, just the soft sound of her footsteps was enough for him to deduce that the doctor stood before him.

Megumi frowned as she laid eyes on the brooding swordsman.

"Yahiko?"

He glanced up at her, his eyes even darker and more gloomy than usual. The doctor arched a thin eyebrow.

"Yahiko," she repeated, "what is it?

Yahiko cast a dejected look over his shoulder into the dojo. "It's Kenshin."

The bag of medicine slipped from the doctor's fingers, landing in the dirt and accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. Megumi made no effort to save the leaking liquid. Instead her already dispirited face paled dramatically.

"Ken-san . . . is he back?"

Yahiko glanced back at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. "He's dead," he responded flatly.

Megumi struggled to keep a dignified demeanor as the news hit. "Dead?" she repeated in a hoarse whisper, a tear sliding down her light face. Yahiko clenched his eyes shut, struggling to control himself as he was forced to listen to one of the strongest women he knew fighting back tears.

But the doctor largely won the battle with her turbulent emotions, and wiped gently at her eyes with one slender figure. "Where is he?" she murmured. Without a word, Yahiko led her into the dojo, to the dark and dismal room that held the remains of the most powerful man in Japan.

In the space of a few brief hours, that one room saw more tears than any other since the construction of the dojo.

"And Kaoru?" Megumi whispered as she emerged from the temporary sepulcher. Yahiko took her to the other woman's room, where a quick examination of the yet unconscious figure ensued.

"We should probably wait a little longer before having the funeral," the doctor stated in a monotone afterwards. "She'll probably soon be joining him."

* * *

"Chizuru?" 

The thirteen-year-old gasped and jumped away from the fusama through which she had been peeking, eyes wide.

"S-Soichiro—"

The young man crossed his arms and frowned down at her. "Chizuru, you know you shouldn't be sneaking around like this." His usually soft sable eyes shifted to observe the room his little sister had been near entering.

"That's where Kenji's father is, isn't it?" Chizuru nodded ashamedly.

"I just, well, I just wanted to meet him!" she answered in an impassioned whisper. She cast a longing glance into the darkness beyond the fusama. "Kenji's so mysterious about him, you know—"

"Chizuru."

She paused just before taking a cautious step into the room. "What?"

"You can't meet him. I heard Megumi-san and Yahiko-san talking. He's dead."

The young girl's face fell, though her brother suspected that her disappointment arose more from the fact that her curiosity would never be appeased than in sorrow for Kenji's loss. Silently she slid the fusama shut.

"Soichiro? Chizuru-chan?" Chizuru opened her mouth to protest to the honorific, but clamped it back shut as her brother's foot came down on her unprotected toes. The boy's face simultaneously filled with compassion as his best friend approached.

"Kenji, you're back. Is everything all right?" The redhead shrugged in feigned indifference, though Soichiro knew him well enough to read the distress behind the seemingly neutral expression. "We're going to head over to the Akabeko. We'll be there if you need anything."

"But Soichi, we weren't—"

Another swift downfall on her foot, and Chizuru followed her brother silently away with nothing more than a slight limp and a soft smile in Kenji's direction.

Kenji chuckled to himself as the pair disappeared around a corner. It was odd to have them here. Previous to this trip his lives in Kyoto and Tokyo had never mixed. He had found himself feeling almost like two separate beings, one for each city. Their decision to follow him here at the news of the ill health of his mother had served to awake him from that illusion. At first it had been disconcerting, but it was also strangely comforting, in a way. He suspected that it would be wise to have someone to relate with once he too became an orphan.

* * *

"Kaa-san?" Kenji questioned reluctantly as his mother's eyelids began to flutter. He released a slow, relieved breath as her sapphire eyes finally opened, though slowly and drearily. "Kaa-san," he restated, "how are you feeling?" 

Kaoru glanced warmly at her son, her expression cognizant for the first time in hours. A weak smile spread across her face, and silently she lifted a hand from beneath her blankets, taking one of Kenji's much larger and rougher ones in her own.

"Kenji," she whispered, tears glittering in her bright eyes, "I love you so much."

The young redhead felt his breath catch at her sincerity. But he just smiled back, nodding slightly. His mother smiled again, then turned to stare up at the ceiling.

"I don't have much time left," she said ominously, though her voice held a degree of peace even in her currently deplorable conditions. "Kenji, will you promise me one thing?"

"Of course."

"Kenji, I understand how you feel about your father. But please, for me, try not to be bitter anymore." She turned her powerful eyes on him again. "Despite what you believe, he really loved you. We both wanted so badly for you to be happy."

Kenji had to repress the instinctive thoughts of rebellion and disagreement that shot through his mind. After all, his mother was on her deathbed, and he got the sense that this would be her final request. So instead of contending, he just slowly nodded, silently chiding himself for his hypocrisy and false promise while she beamed approvingly up at him. Why did those eyes have to make him feel so guilty?

She turned to watch the ceiling again, this time taking a slow breath and closing her eyes. When she opened them again, Kenji observed that they were dull and unfocused, as if looking at a point beyond the ceiling that confined them. His fingers tightened around his mother's. She was fading fast, and he didn't have much time.

"Kaa-san, I—"

But she didn't hear him. Her last few tears had dripped to the floor, and her skin was growing paler by the second. She closed her lids, closing those once so happy eyes to the view of the rest of mankind for the final time.

"I'm coming, Shinta," she whispered. Kenji tensed, unwillingly sensing the end. Kaoru took one last gulp of precious air, and then her chest failed to move. She had succumbed to mortality, and the weak fingers in Kenji's grasp were slowly growing cold.

Kenji closed his eyes reverently, bowing his head. He carefully laid his mother's arm beside her breathless body, then glanced back at her face, the feelings of scarring sorrow and immense relief filling his being simultaneously. Silently he stood.

"I love you too, Kaa-san," he whispered, though the soft declaration went unheard. He frowned momentarily, realizing that this was the first instance in which he had admitted that to her. But the expression passed.

"Kenji?"

He looked up to see both Megumi and Yahiko standing before him as he exited the room, their looks questioning and probing. He just nodded with a sigh, looking aside.

"She's gone."

Yahiko slipped past him into the room to confirm the truth for himself, and Kenji heard him exert a muffled cry as he found the body. Megumi, hearing it as well, fell forward into Kenji as she lost composure. The young, orphaned swordsman stood still, ignoring the grief of the others, and staring absentmindedly out the open door to where his mother's wind chime hung from the dojo as he was soaked with the doctor's tears. A gentle breeze stirred it, filling the air with a gentle echoing ring. Just seconds later it rang again, and Kenji could have sworn that he heard a familiar hint of laughter floating off with the draft that had disturbed the precious chime.

* * *

The funeral was simple. The earthy scent of freshly overturned soil accompanied the stifled tears of more attendants than anyone had expected. Of course Kenshin and Kaoru's closest friends were there. Yahiko stood stiffly beside Kenji, one armed wrapped protectively around his young wife's shoulders. And despite her soft nature, Tsubame appeared more in control of her surely distraught emotions than nearly anyone else there. Megumi stood just behind them, a handkerchief held tightly between her fingers for use at a moment's notice. 

Misao's dark head was buried into her husband's chest, and Aoshi just gazed on contemplatively, perhaps struck by the irony of the situation. The remainder of the Oniwabanshu had gathered around the couple, their leaders. Suzume and Ayame stood side-by-side with matching tear-stained faces. And a variety of others dotted the cemetery grounds, some vaguely familiar to Kenji, others complete strangers. He didn't bother asking about their connections to his mother or father.

His eyes shifted to his other side, where young Soichiro and Chizuru stood. Somehow, even now, Soichiro's black eyes were calm, clear, and untroubled. Kenji would always envy him for that. Even at so small an age, he held a degree of wisdom found in few. Kenji suspected that it had arisen out of necessity, when he had been left parentless as a small child with nothing to survive on and a younger sister to raise. Kenji sighed peacefully as he watched Chizuru. She was an impressive little girl. Soichiro had done an exceptional job. No one would ever suspect the two to be orphans, or to have any kind of trauma in their lives whatsoever. They were the two happiest, most strong-willed people he knew.

Kenji gazed back on the funeral proceedings as both of his parents' coffins came to a gentle rest on the ground below with a quiet thud. Several looked to him as the dirt was piled on, expecting distress, despair, or even fear in his countenance. Instead the young man stood as unmoving as a statue, his expression revealing a resolved stoicism. He watched without a word as Kenshin and Kaoru disappeared from his life forever.

* * *

The sole surviving Himura arose earlier than usual the following morning. Before sunrise Kenji sat idly atop the dojo, with one leg dangling languidly over the edge. He was watching a spot down the road, the scene of his mother and father laying there just a few days ago vivid in his mind. In less than one day he had lost the only family that had ever existed for him. And strangely, he wasn't as saddened by that fact as would be expected. When he was completely honest with himself, he realized that he was just glad it was over. His mother was at peace, and that was most important. 

A pink sakura petal slowly floated toward him, landing softly on his shoulder. He picked up the smooth rosy petal between two fingers, breathing in its aroma in a deep, satisfied breath. The scent was nostalgic, reminding him of the times he had watched the rare blossoms with his mother, father, Yahiko, and Tsubame as a small child. Ah, but those times were gone . . .

He turned his head to the side as he noticed a figure down the road out of the corner of his eye. It was Chizuru-chan, meandering tranquilly up the abandoned path. He raised an eyebrow. How early had _she_ arisen?

She hadn't noticed him yet, and her head was tilted back, her wide brown eyes eagerly taking in the beauty of the pink shrouded trees. She was clad in a pale but beautiful pink kimono, identical in color to the falling blossoms.

The young girl practically glowed as she walked peacefully toward him, now and again laughing and chasing the petals in childish joy. It was as if an angel had been sent from the heavens, here to ease Kenji of his guilt and pain. Kenji laughed at that thought. If there was a heaven, he doubted that its inhabitants were very concerned with his existence. They probably left his fate to their more heinous and much lower counterparts.

He slipped silently from the roof as Chizuru paused, watching a particular petal that had fallen to float just inches from her nose. She reached out to grab it, only to fail as a slight breeze caught it and pulled it away from her. The rosy petal drifted several feet down the path, through the dojo gates, then came to a soft stop on the ground at Kenji's feet.

"Look at them," Yahiko said pleasantly as he joined Soichiro in watching the pair walk off together down the path. Soichiro nodded.

"Funny, isn't it?"

Just yards away Kenji had once again paused to observe the site of his father's death, where he and Chizuru now stood. He sighed.

"Kenji-kun," Chizuru pressed, her voice anxious, "what's wrong?" Kenji turned to look at her, his face passive.

"Nothing . . . much."

He turned again to wander aimlessly on, Chizuru following with an aggravated pout. It was obvious that he was hiding something, and his complete disregard for his curiosity was perturbing.

"What was that all about?" she asked, her voice slightly condescending.

"I'll tell you all about it later," he answered smoothly, mostly just in an effort to quiet her. "That aside. That ribbon looks good on you."

Chizuru's eyes widened in surprise before she broke into a timid smile, her anger forgotten. "Really?"

Kenji didn't answer. Instead he just slowed a little, his eyes watching the sky contemplatively.

"Let us be . . . happy together," he murmured slowly, his thoughts wandering to his future in Kyoto, with both her and Soichiro. He hoped and prayed that it would be simpler and happier than life had been for him here thus far.

Chizuru smiled to herself as the last hints of pain disappeared from his face, and though she didn't completely understand his words, answered in the affirmative.

"Yes."

* * *

Thanks a lot to my reviewers, AllyCat06 and RougeShadow! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. 


	3. More than Just a Cold

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 3: More than Just a Cold**

Time.

It was a funny thing, really. Everyone in his life, Kenji included, had considered the emotional recovery of the young swordsman after the incidents in Tokyo an impossibility.

It wasn't that he struggled with the reality of having no parents. In fact, more than one of his friends wished it were only that simple. At least then he would have been behaving like a _normal_ person. But no, instead their concern lay in his mind-engulfing bitterness and hatred. One would do as much as mention his father's name, and be left stunned in the wake of his disintegrating glare. There was no cure for that kind of animosity.

But they forgot about time.

"You're what?" Kenji had questioned dubiously when Hiko had informed him that he would no longer be training him in his father's style. The young man had been livid. But as the weeks passed his frustration ebbed; his anger was doused. Kenji promptly got over it.

After all, he still spent an unhealthy amount of time practicing, even without Hiko's tutelage. And Aoshi almost always proved to be a willing sparring partner. He continued living with his former master, but saw less and less of the old man as weeks turned into months. Gradually the invisible fragile sign that most of the Oniwabanshu had placed on him after his parents' deaths faded into oblivion, and it was as if that fateful visit to Tokyo had never even occurred. It was so much simpler to pretend it hadn't happened.

The ensuing months that Kenji experienced truly became the most peaceful of his life thus far. As he often had nothing better to do, he found himself frequently among the paddies, harvesting rice alongside Soichiro (and occasionally Chizuru), who made a living by assisting the farmers of the area. On occasion he was even put to work at the Aoiya, where Chizuru worked as an indispensable asset.

Anniversaries and birthdays passed, and a surprising but not unexpected announcement was made. Kenji nearly blacked out when he heard the news that Misao was pregnant.

Aoshi. A father.

Almost before anyone had realized it, a year had passed in Kyoto. And as far as anyone could tell, Kenji had healed. As long as Kenshin's name passed no one's lips, the young man behaved as would be expected of one with a completely average childhood.

Was this how normal people lived?

* * *

"Oooo . . . that looks painful. What happened?"

Kenji swatted Chizuru's curious fingers away from his bruised arm.

"Don't touch it."

He and Aoshi had just finished another session of "sparring." Or, to be more precise, the ninja had beaten him to a pulp.

"Stupid inhumane excuse for a—"

"What?"

"Nothing," Kenji muttered. All right, so his anger wasn't _completely_ under control yet.

Chizuru shrugged and turned back to the potato she was peeling, humming a simple, wandering tune to herself. Her dangling legs swung gently back and forth with the notes, and Kenji chuckled at the picture of innocence she made. She was so guileless, so childlike, so . . . vulnerable. Kenji sighed. One as young as she was shouldn't have been required to work just to survive. He knew Soichiro worried about her. After all, she was just a little girl.

He turned his eyes to the potato, where her experienced fingers wielded a small knife with nimble ease. An idea was born in his mind as the blade caught a ray of sunlight.

"Chizuru-chan" (her fingers slipped, removing a hefty chunk of the root, though Kenji failed to notice), "why don't _you_ do some kind of training? You and Soichiro live here after all, I'm surprised you haven't already been recruited to be ninjas. Misao and Aoshi are some of the best, you know."

She laughed. "Oh, I couldn't, Kenji-kun. I'd rather resolve things peacefully. Besides, if I'm ever in any kind of trouble, I'll have you to take care of me, right?"

She grinned sweetly, and he couldn't help but match the expression.

"Right."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She tossed him the knife and potato and stood, brushing her hands off on her kimono.

"Well then, it looks like you're staying for awhile, so you might as well help out." An impish smile spread across her face before she disappeared into the Aoiya.

"Thanks!" she called. Kenji sighed.

That girl.

* * *

Kenji found himself oddly disappointed a few days later when he found the paddies Soichiro usually worked in empty. The sun was just setting, and the farmers had apparently called the day early. That is, all but one.

Kenji squinted into the dying light at the lone figure wandering up and down the rows of rice, as if in inspection. The sun was behind the worker, only giving Kenji a view of his or her dark outline in contrast to the glowing orb. The farmer was thin and fairly short, and held an odd degree of familiarity. He held a hand to shadow his eyes from the blazing remainder of the sun. That confirmed his suspicions, and he smiled.

"Chizuru-chan!" he called as he neared her. As was becoming customary, Chizuru lobbed the nearest object at his head in protest to the "chan" he had assigned to her name, a small pebble in this case. Just recently her dislike for the honorific had become manifest in violence. As usual, however, Kenji smoothly stepped to the side, letting the offending object whiz past him, barely missing his ear.

"Your aim is getting worse," he teased as he waded through the water toward her, "I think you're starting to miss on purpose. In fact, I think you actually like it that when I call you that."

The next rock was much larger and more aerodynamic, but most importantly, completely unexpected. Chizuru watched with strongly mixed satisfaction and horror as it struck Kenji squarely between the eyes, leaving him staring blankly in surprise, one hand holding his forehead.

Chizuru ducked her head and covered her mouth with the guilty hand. When she had regained her voice, she hurriedly sputtered in a tone brimming with shame, "I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd actually hit you!"

He turned two wide eyes on her, causing her to shrink back fearfully even further.

"Why you little—"

Chizuru screamed and splashed away as he sent a deluge of glittering droplets into the air and toward her with a swift kick in the water. His lips curled into a roguish smile, and he sprinted after her. It didn't take long to catch up. She squealed again as he tackled her from behind, forcing her down into the few inches of water swishing around their ankles. She good-naturedly shoved him off, wiping a strand of dripping black hair out of her eyes and splashing him in the face revengefully. Kenji laughed, actually _laughed_ he realized, and extended a hand to help her to her feet, fully expecting her to shove it aside and stand up by herself as she always did. He had to refrain from physically jumping as he felt her clammy hand slide easily into his.

He watched with an arched eyebrow, not sure whether to be glad or disappointed as she pulled herself to a standing position with his help. She glanced up after wringing some of the water out of her hair, but her lighthearted smile slowly faded.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing."

The girl shook her head and turned away, heading out of the field, as sunset was growing steadily nearer. Kenji followed slowly, shaking his head. Why had he been so surprised anyway? It wasn't that important.

The sun was nearly gone before they made it back to the interior of Kyoto. Chizuru sneezed once or twice on the way, and even though she assured Kenji that she was fine, he continually watched her out of the corner of one curious eye, just to be sure. The evening air was getting cooler with every step they took, and he was beginning to get goose bumps on his arms. And he was the dry one.

After the fourth sneeze, he turned his head to openly observe her.

"Chizuru-chan, you're shivering."

"No I'm not, Kenji-kun." Kenji noticed with some surprise that her honorific was slightly delayed, as if she had almost forgotten to add it, as she did when she was angry with him.

"And how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me thaa—choo!"

"Why didn't you say you were cold? You're going to get sick."

Chizuru sniffed and straightened stiffly, wearing a hard scowl. It didn't take her long to realize that Kenji had stopped walking, but when she turned around to rebuke him, the malevolent words died on her lips. He was standing right behind her, bare above the waist, his blue gi extended toward her on his right arm. She glanced from the piece of clothing to his face with questioning eyes.

"It's dry," he explained simply. "You'll be warmer if you wear it. After all, it's my fault you got wet in the first place."

And Chizuru surprised him for the second time in one day by accepting the offer with nothing more than a soft smile.

"Thanks, Kenji-kun."

* * *

Kenji jogged quickly through the crowded streets, easily dodging and ducking to avoid the massive amounts of people, and making sure to jostle the contents of the bag at his side as little as possible.

He skidded to a halt after crossing the threshold of the Aoiya, breathing heavily.

"Misao!"

The kunoichi popped into the room, smiling. "Well that was fast."

Kenji shrugged the comment off. "I've got Chizuru's medicine." He shoved his hand into the slightly crumpled bag and quickly withdrew a bottle of dark liquid. Misao's eyes bulged.

"I didn't give you enough money for _that_ much!"

"I threw in some extra pocket change."

"_Extra pocket change_! That must have cost at least—" she stopped, a knowing smile appearing on her face.

"What?"

"You're really worried about her, aren't you?" Misao asked gently.

"I—"

"It's all right, Kenji. That was really sweet of you."

The young swordsman turned away with a frown.

Misao slipped from the room with a sly smile, leaving Kenji to pace impatiently across the wooden floor alone. Before long, however, Soichiro entered the room, a wide smile across his face.

"Hey Soichiro. Is Chizuru all right?"

The other young man chuckled. "Of course Kenji, she's fine. She just had a cold. But thanks for the medicine, I'm sure it will help."

"Are you sure it was just a cold?"

Soichiro glanced at him inquisitively. "What does that mean?"

"She was acting kind of strangely yesterday, not quite like herself. Usually she's more stubborn. I thought maybe something more was wrong."

Kenji got the disconcerting impression that his best friend was barely repressing laughter. He smiled mischievously, an expression rarely seen on the collected young man's face.

"Kenji, you're an idiot."

He didn't have time to ask what Soichiro meant, as a protesting groan was heard from the adjacent room, from which Chizuru had apparently been listening.

"Soichi!"

Chizuru's brother chuckled softly, ignoring her discomfort. "Go ahead," he said, "you can see her."

"But—"

"Just go on."

Kenji stepped forward and slid the fusama open without further delay, only to be met by an angry screech and a jar flying rapidly toward his head, which he caught easily before ducking out of Chizuru's range.

"Don't come see me like _this_!"

Kenji shut the fusama with one foot and sank to the floor against the opposite wall, smiling.

"Well, she's definitely feeling better."

* * *

"Sorry, Kenji-kun."

Kenji looked up from where he was polishing the sakabatou. Chizuru was standing just behind him, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Feeling better?"

She nodded quickly. "I guess I overreacted back there."

_You guess?_

"I didn't mean to throw that at you . . ." she trailed off, both knowing that she was telling a boldfaced lie. "Well anyway, thank you for bringing the medicine."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Why?"

"It's not like you to apologize."

She looked surprised at first, but then met his eyes with an arrogant smile.

"Well don't get used to it."

"Now that's the Chizuru-chan I know . . . ow! What was that for?"

"I told you not to call me that."

His smile broadened as Chizuru seated herself next to him. Her almond-colored eyes began to follow the methodical movements of his hands over his blade, amused but interested."Aoshi-san said that you're a really talented swordsman. How long have you been training?"

"Almost since I could walk. I didn't train seriously until I came here, though."

"Amazing . . ." she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "And this was your father's sword? It must hold a lot of memories for you."

Kenji shrugged, suddenly feeling the urge to put the sakabatou away. "Not really."

Chizuru noticed that his eyes had once again taken on that cold and detached look he had worn in Tokyo. She wisely decided to change the subject.

"You know Kenji, what you did back there . . . it was really kind of you."

Kenji arched an eyebrow in confusion, unaware that she had abruptly switched topics.

"When you lent me your gi," she clarified.

"Oh. You're welcome."

He had expected the conversation to end there, but apparently Chizuru wasn't finished saying thank you. His entire body tensed as he felt her slowly lean against his side, sighing in contentment. He looked down at her face, his own expression bordering on shock.

She turned to look at him as she realized he was staring. Her cheeks and nose were covered in a rosy blush, her lips curled upward in a small and unsure smile. But her eyes were what threw Kenji off the most. The usually defiant, headstrong orbs were just barely betraying an emotion he had never expected, never even dreamed of seeing in them. It was difficult for him to interpret, a warm sort of attachment, or possibly . . .

Kenji felt his left eye begin to twitch involuntarily, no doubt as a result of his current discomfort. He could hear his heartbeat palpitating rapidly, and he had to look away as his own face started to redden.

_What on earth is she looking at me like that for?_

But Chizuru apparently didn't notice or chose to ignore his embarrassment, as she merely turned forward again, neglecting to lean away from him.

Kenji stared forward as well, though his expression betrayed much more distress. The heat emitted from his face was steadily intensifying, and he had to let out a deep, slow breath in an attempt to remain calm. His entire body was rigid, and the steady thump of his heartbeat grew so loud that he was positive that she could hear it. But she didn't react.

So much for normal.

* * *

I think it was time for a more upbeat chapter. Anyway, thanks a lot for the reviews, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well. Feedback is always appreciated! _Suzu_


	4. Deserters and Arrivals

**

* * *

**

When Sakura Blossoms Fall

**Chapter 4: Deserters and Arrivals**

Kenji shuddered as he stepped slowly, almost reluctantly, onto the dark train. Lightning routinely flashed, illuminating his cold blue eyes amid the surrounding darkness, and always followed almost instantly by a deafening clap of thunder. He turned away from the window, disconcerted. It was as if the heavens themselves were protesting his decision.

_I'm not running away!_

The wheels on the steam engine squeaked unwillingly as they were forced to begin turning, and a sharp whistle pierced the gray, foggy evening. Kenji glanced impulsively back out the small square window. His heart skipped a beat.

Chizuru was standing there on the platform, watching him calmly with her large brown eyes. She grinned convincingly—too convincingly—and began to wave enthusiastically as they made eye contact. She wasn't in line for a ticket, and she made no effort to move closer to him. She wasn't going to follow.

Kenji returned her gesture half-heartedly, barely managing a tenuous smile. She didn't get it, did she? She didn't realize that he was leaving because of _her_. Usually he admired her for her innocence, but sometimes her naivete could be somewhat upsetting.

He ran through the justifications for his actions for the umpteenth time as he felt himself begin to weaken under her gaze. This was best for both of them. He was a swordsman to the core, and he couldn't allow frivolous emotions to get in the way of his training. He had wasted enough time. He needed to get back on the path to the goal he had been originally pursuing when he first journeyed here, no matter what sacrifices were required. And she . . . well, he couldn't bear to remain here and watch her suffer.

_I am _not_ a coward!_

Kenji turned away abruptly with a frown as the clouds overhead finally opened and rain began to fall in torrents. Most of the civilians on the platform scurried away, seeking shelter from the sudden inclement weather. But Chizuru remained where she was, her brimming eyes never wavering from his face, even when he turned violently away from her. Her hand dropped to her side as the train slowly pulled away from the station, but she didn't turn away until long after it was completely out of sight. Those huddling together where it was dry called to the drenched young girl standing alone in the rain, but she paid them no heed.

Kenji sank deeper into his seat and swore under his breath.

* * *

Tokyo. It was just as he remembered it. He hadn't expected much to change in the mere year of his absence, but the fact that nothing visible had altered in the slightest since his parents' deaths caused an uncomfortable stirring of painful and all-too-familiar emotions within him.

He chuckled derisively for a moment, drawing the questioning glances of his fellow passengers. Was this really what it had come to? He had made an unofficial vow to himself to never return here for more than a limited visit. Yet here he was, on the city's doorstep, looking to make some kind of living for himself here for heaven only knew how long. Hiko's response to his decision to return home flashed through his head. The old man's words had formed a habit of doing that routinely over the last day or so.

_So even that hated city is appealing to you when you're faced to confront your fear of attachment. I didn't believe you were that weak, Himura._

"I'm not weak!"

He smiled bleakly as a family of three paused to openly stare at him, then pushed his way through the rest of the crowds and down the street before someone called the police and accused him of insanity.

Most of the train ride had been spent staring lazily out the window and trying to erase the image of Chizuru at the train station from his memory. But now Kenji's thoughts were consumed by the immediate and practical: where he would stay, how he would find Yahiko, how he would continue living on his limited amount of money. He sighed. He might have hated the old man for refusing to train him anymore, but Hiko's hospitality really had saved his life so far. He would never take that run-down hut for granted again.

"Kenji-kun!"

He swivelled his head around in the direction of the voice and smiled genuinely for the first time in hours. He was incapable of remaining melancholy and bitter around such a permanently optimistic woman.

"Tsubame."

She was just as he remembered. Her soft brown hair was short, in the same style she had worn when he was just a baby, and probably even before that. Her dark eyes and pale but ever-smiling face betrayed no signs of having aged at all.

But there _was_ one very distinct change. Kenji's azure eyes widened significantly as he recognized the very conspicuous bulge where her stomach should have been. He sighed. He really didn't need another intemperate, irate, unstable woman on his hands right now. Misao was bad enough. After all, she even had Aoshi cowering in submission on occasion. It couldn't be mere coincidence. Fate was out to get him. _Or maybe there's something in the water._

He shook his head. They had kept virtually no contact since he had gone to Kyoto, but Yahiko at least could have mentioned _that_.

Tsubame blushed and smiled shyly as she noticed where Kenji was staring.

"Yahiko didn't tell you?" she asked in her usually quiet and unthreatening voice. Kenji shook his head and pulled his eyes away from their rude stare, turning his eyes to her face.

"It's good to see you again, Tsubame-san."

"And it's so wonderful to see you, too! Just look at how much you've grown!" She leaned forward to hug him, which was awkward considering the state of her swollen stomach. Her eyes were swimming with joyful tears as she pulled back, and she put her arm through one of his, leading him to the Akabeko.

"Come on, I'll take you in and make you some dinner. You must be famished!"

* * *

Yahiko nearly choked on the rice ball he was snacking on when he laid eyes Kenji. The young swordsman chuckled as his surrogate brother stood and crossed the room, extending a welcoming hand and smiling. Kenji took it and shook firmly.

"Welcome home, Kenji."

Thankfully, neither Yahiko nor Tsubame mentioned the circumstances of his last visit or questioned his presence in Tokyo now throughout dinner. Kenji gorged himself that night, filling himself to capacity with the amazing food he had been missing for months. Yahiko was lucky to have Tsubame, for more reason than one.

"Kenji?"

"Yeah?" Kenji replied, looking up from his bowl. Tsubame had returned to the Akabeko to close up, and the two swordsmen now sat alone in the couple's apartment above the restaurant.

"Why did you come back?"

Kenji chuckled nervously and shrugged. "Oh, I guess it was just time for a visit."

"Hiko's not training you anymore, is he?"

The redhead frowned. "No."

"You know, I'm the master of the Kamiya Kasshin now, and you're always welcome to—"

"No thank you, Yahiko."

Yahiko smiled and nodded. "I thought so. You really still see us as weak and misled, don't you?"

"Don't forget foolishly idealistic."

The elder man laughed quietly. "Oh well, it was worth a try. Will you be staying in the dojo? It's officially yours, after all."

"Don't be ridiculous, Yahiko," Tsubame interrupted from the doorway. "He can stay with us!"

* * *

Yahiko's eyes drifted lazily open in the middle of the night, and he rubbed them in annoyance before rolling over and trying to fall back asleep. A few moments later, he realized what had awakened him initially as his wife gasped sharply.

He rolled over to find Tsubame sitting up, one hand on her stomach, and her face twisted in pain. She immediately tried to smooth over her expression as she realized that her husband was awake and watching her, and smiled unconvincingly. Yahiko shook his head. She might appear soft, but she was a stoic through and through.

"Tsubame, what's wrong?"

She opened her mouth to assure him that everything was fine, but paused in indecision. She grimaced again and turned to Yahiko.

"Anata, I think you should get a doctor."

"A doctor? Tsubame, what's going on, are you—"

Yahiko shut his mouth as five powerful fingers clamped down on his arm.

"Anata," Tsubame muttered through gritted teeth, "get a doctor _now_."

Yahiko had bolted from their futon and through the fusama before she could utter another word. He nearly knocked Kenji down on the way, who had heard him pounding through the hallway and exited his room to discover the cause of the ruckus.

"Yahiko, what's going on?"

"It's Tsubame," Yahiko answered palely, "I think she's going to have the baby."

"Can I go get a doctor?"

Yahiko almost ignored the request and pushed past him to run to the clinic himself, but suddenly realized that he would much rather remain here with his wife to comfort her if he could help it.

"You remember where the clinic is?"

"Of course."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Will you hurry?"

"_Yes_,Yahiko," Kenji said, growing impatient with the other man's patronizing and doubtful attitude, "everything will be fine." Yahiko smiled reluctantly and nodded, thanking Kenji and turning back to his own room.

"Yahiko, why are you still here?"

"Don't worry, Kenji's fetching a doctor."

Kenji sprinted through the dark streets as fast as he could, relying on the moonlight to guide his way. More than one very close friend of his mother and father had run the closest clinic when he had lived here, and finding it was almost second nature. Dr. Genzai had long ago passed on, and Megumi had since moved to Aizu, only returning to care for his mother during her darkest hour, but the two had left another well trained and talented physician in their place. Kenji smiled in relief as the clinic door he was pounding on slid open.

"Kenji? Is it really you?"

"Ayame-san!"

Ten minutes later Kenji watched the bickering pair in front of him with a crooked smile. Almost upon the moment of Ayame's arrival, Yahiko had started causing problems for the young doctor. At first she had borne the man and dismissed his behavior as a result of worry, but eventually her patience had cracked. Now they were standing outside of the Akabeko in the middle of the night, yelling at each other like a pair of four-year-olds.

"Come on, Ayame! Kenshin was there when Kaoru had Kenji!" Yahiko complained, pointing to the redhead standing next to him.

"Well I wasn't the doctor then, was I? And _I_ say you're staying out here!"

"But Kenshin—"

"_Kenshin_ could control himself!"

"I played with you when you were a kid!"

"You pulled my _hair_ when I was a kid, now shut up and stay put!"

The livid doctor stormed into the Akabeko, slamming the shoji behind her. Kenji placed a hand on Yahiko's shoulder to restrict him from following.

"Tsubame-san will be fine, Yahiko."

Kenji chuckled at the thought of Ayame and Yahiko fighting as children. It was hard to picture a woman that was like an aunt to him as a child, but in Yahiko's case it wasn't as difficult.

Just as the sun was beginning to emerge as a mere sliver of light in the east, and Yahiko was ready to stressfully tear his hair out, Ayame stepped outside, a pleased smile on her face. Yahiko stood, his eyes wide with anxiety, but relaxed at Ayame's words.

"Congratulations Yahiko, you're the father of a healthy baby boy."

"And Tsubame?"

"She's just fine. You can see her now."

Yahiko laughed softly as he saw the dark-haired baby sleeping peacefully in the arms of his wife. Tsubame looked up at him with a wide smile.

"He looks just like you, anata."

Kenji snickered from the hallway. "Poor kid."

* * *

Over two hundred miles away, another child was about to experience the beginning of its mortal existence. Aoshi cringed as another loud groan sounded from the adjacent room.

"Chizuru, get some towels and hot water."

"Hai."

Shinomori Asuka took her first breath just hours after Yahiko and Tsubame's little Shinya did. Both Aoshi and Misao sighed in exhausted relief as a piercing cry filled the room, replacing Misao's vulgar curses at the pain she had been forced to endure because of her husband. Misao beamed as she watched her raven-headed daughter open her eyes for the first time.

"Oh Aoshi, she has your eyes."

And Aoshi actually smiled.

Chizuru wiped at her moist brow and smiled as she listened from the hallway.

"Oh Kenji, you really should have been here."

* * *

Ok, here's the new chapter four. Yes, Chizuru and Kenji have been separated, but don't worry. It won't last forever. Many thanks to my reviewers: RougeShadow, AllyCat06, Raeyn-chan, and Steph. You guys are really helpful and motivating! More reviews/suggestions are always welcome! 


	5. Like Father Like Son

Disclaimer: I do not presently, never have, and most likely never will own Rurouni Kenshin.

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 5: Like Father Like Son**

Kenji rubbed groggily with a fisted hand at his heavy eyelids, opening one dreary eye in curiosity. A few long moments of silence passed, and he collapsed again into the mass of tangled blankets on the floor, his flaming hair fanning out wildly across his pillow.

There it was again.

He sat up completely this time, groaning as he realized that the knocks he had heard hadn't been a dream after all. He languidly pulled himself up and ran a hand through his disheveled locks, mumbling something imperceptible.

But an exhausted, disgruntled young man wasn't what met the eyes of the police officer at the gate. As the huge wooden doors squeaked open a crack, the thin, mustachioed lawman saw instead a sharp-eyed and alert young figure, with hair pulled neatly back and fully dressed in martial art clothing typical of the dojo. He arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, excuse me, but is your father at home?"

A scowl rippled under Kenji's current expression, but didn't surface. He managed to remain neutral in appearance.

"No, sir. He's dead."

The officer pushed a pair of small, circular glasses up the ridge of his nose. "No, that can't be right. This is the Kamiya dojo, correct?"

"Yes."

"And your father, he's—"

"Himura Kenshin, yes. And he's dead."

Kenji really wasn't surprised at this man's sudden arrival. His parents had attempted to keep most of their past adventures secret, but that hadn't kept Yahiko and Misao's mouths shut. He was perfectly aware of the various instances in which his father had assisted the local police force. But apparently they weren't done asking for favors.

"And your mother—"

"She's dead as well, sir."

The man scratched his temple and glanced down the road, as if assuring himself that he really was in the right place.

"Then, you live here alone?"

"That's right."

The man sighed. "Well then, thank you for your time, I guess . . ."

The gate shut in the officer's face.

* * *

"But that's too much!" 

"Sorry kid, that's how much it costs."

Kenji looked down to fish through his wallet for any hiding coins, but the cloth folds failed to appease his hunger. The watermelon remained in its place, and Kenji wandered forlornly away.

He tossed his near-empty coin purse into the air, sighing as it landed back in his open palm. He had exhausted nearly all of the funds at his fingertips; he couldn't even afford a stupid melon. He already relied on Yahiko and Tsubame for a few regular meals, and he didn't want to become any more of a burden. Life here was growing boring, anyway. He needed a job.

Kenji glanced up after several more minutes of aimless wandering, and was slightly surprised to realize that his feet had carried him to the cemetery. He prepared to turn quickly away, but paused as a blue speck caught his eye.

A police officer was standing at his parents' graves, the same officer from before. He held one fisted hand over his heart, and Kenji noticed fresh white flowers beside each headstone. Kenji stood pensively for a few unsure moments, but promptly made up his mind and stepped over a few graves and toward the man.

"Hello."

The officer jumped and whirled, but chuckled as his eyes met the unmistakable steely glare of the young redhead from the dojo.

"Just like your father."

Kenji ignored the comment and decided to cut to the chase.

"I want the job you were going to offer my father."

"What?"

"I know you were coming to find him so he could take care of some local menace—"

"You're mistaken, young man. I was just checking up on an old friend."

"Liar."

The officer smiled at his youthful companion's adamance.

"I'm sorry, but you know you're just a kid."

"I'm seventeen."

"Exactly."

"My father fought in the revolution when he was fifteen."

"You're not your father, young man."

For the briefest second Kenji felt a strong urge to leap forward and hug the man. This was probably the first instance in his life in which someone that had actually been acquainted with his father had said something that didn't make him feel like Kenshin's clone. But instead he just smiled wryly, recalling the officer's comment just moments before, when Kenji had surprised him from behind. Apparently the only time he didn't resemble his father was when it was convenient for the opposing party.

"So? I've been trained by the same man my father was. I can easily take care of your problem, whatever it is."

"What do you want, boy? Money? Is that it?"

Kenji chuckled guiltily. "Well actually—"

The man arched an eyebrow again. "Are you serious? You just want money? No desire to assist the weak, no duty to your country . . ."

"I'm not my father," Kenji replied, echoing the officer's words.

The officer grinned and shook his head. "All right. I suppose I can't deny the son of Hitokiri Battousai. Come on, I'll give you the details at the station."

At that moment, Kenji couldn't have hoped to conceive the consequences this itching, boredom-induced desire to fight would have on the rest of his life.

**

* * *

**Kenji licked his lips and smirked at the task that lay behind him. A simple local thief. That was it. Tracking him down had proven to be child's play, and defeating him had been easier than even the earliest of Hiko's training sessions. This job had been a joke. 

But he wasn't complaining. He had his money, and a new idea had begun to mill around in his head, thanks to the grateful police officer. The man had been considerably surprised by Kenji's speedy fulfillment of the assignment, and a last, offhand suggestion he had made was igniting curious sparks in Kenji's bored mind.

"_You know kid, you would do well in the army."_

And so it began.

* * *

A mere matter of days later, the salty air from the nearby ocean blew stiffly at Kenji, making his long red hair flap violently in his face. He heaved the bag at his feet onto his back, then absentmindedly fingered the hilt of his sword, making sure it was still present at his side. 

A particularly strong, cold gust of wind stirred the dirt on the docks, and as it passed, Kenji turned to face those that had come to bid him farewell, smiling as a high-pitched cry came from one in particular. He stepped towards them, smiling as best as he could despite their forlorn faces. Tsubame quickly shushed the noisy bundle in her arms, pulling blankets more securely around the infant's tiny red face. Kenji walked to her, smiling as Shinya grabbed helplessly at one of his much larger fingers.

"See you, Shinya," he whispered to the child, "keep your father in line for me, all right?" Yahiko blanched at that, giving Kenji a good-natured punch on the arm. Kenji laughed, shaking the older man's hand to say goodbye, then turned back to Tsubame, who quickly stood on her tip-toes and gave him a quick farewell kiss on the cheek.

The trio turned in surprise as a large ruckus a few feet from them caught their ears, and all three smirked as Shinomori Misao burst through the crowds, dragging her reluctant husband and the rest of the Oniwabanshu with her.

"We just got here!" she wailed, throwing herself at Kenji and pulling him into a strong bear hug, "I thought we had missed you!" The redhead smiled, then pried the small ninja off of him. He nodded in acknowledgment of Aoshi, who answered with a similar, emotionless gesture. Kenji quickly said his goodbyes to the rest of the small group of ninjas from Kyoto, including Soichiro. Then he turned to Chizuru, who brushed furiously at her eyes in a futile attempt to hide the fact that they were red and slightly puffy.

The meeting was awkward to say the least, especially considering the relatively cold response Kenji had given her the last time he had left her behind. He took a deep breath. It was still just Chizuru. They were still friends, and he would make this departure as easy as possible for both of them.

"Are you really leaving?" she whispered. Kenji glanced pensively at the towering ship behind him.

"Yeah," he answered, the reality of it all finally setting in, "I guess I am." He looked back down at the distressed girl, flashing her a bright smile to try to cheer her up.

"Oh come on," he said when she failed to return the expression, "we've known each other for almost two whole years now. Don't tell me you're really not sick of me yet."

That got the smile out, though it failed to completely hide her anxiety.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispered, "be back soon." Kenji nodded affirmatively.

"Don't worry. I'll be back before you even realize I'm gone."

A call resounded from the deck of the nearest ship, signaling all that boarding time had come. Kenji glanced at the vessel, then back at his comrades, smiling and waving at them all one last time. He then steadily made his way for his ship, only pausing as Soichiro called to him and jogged to his side.

"Are you sure about this?" he pressed. "I mean, you _are_ only seventeen, and you have no idea what you're getting yourself into—"

"Sorry Soichiro, but I really feel that I need to do this in order to become stronger."

"Still searching for true strength, huh?"

"Always."

A call was heard again, and knowing he could no longer delay, Kenji turned his back on his friends and the closest thing he had to family to make his way up onto the ship. Due to the color of his hair, he was easily visible to those on the docks among the mass of people onboard. Chizuru watched him for as long as she could, her heart jumping as he turned towards them, her specifically, and began to wave. He cupped one hand to his mouth.

"Goodbye, Chizuru-chan!"

For the first time since they had met, Chizuru didn't protest at hearing the dreaded addition at the end of her name. Instead, she suddenly realized that she was really going to miss his voice, even if that was the only word she ever heard pass his lips again.

Acting on a sudden impulse, she ran forward, getting as close to the ship as she could without plunging into the dark waves below.

"Kenji-kun, goodbye!" But he had turned his head away, and in the noise of all the other people she couldn't be heard.

"Kenji-kun! Kenji!" she called desperately, each time louder, hoping he might catch her voice.

In reality, Kenji heard every call she made. He could have picked her voice out of a crowd of a million people with little effort. But he couldn't bear to look at her again, when he knew exactly the sight that would greet him. He couldn't stand seeing her suffer because of him.

Yahiko watched the sight forlornly, the sight of Chizuru having Kenji ripped away reminding him of another very similar situation.

"Kaoru . . ." he whispered to himself.

"What?" Tsubame questioned, noticing his lips move but not hearing his voice.

"Nothing," he replied quietly, turning away from the scene of the crying girl.

"Kenji! KENJI!"

"Kenji! Hey Himura, get up already!"

Kenji rolled onto his side, moaning at the interruption of his sleep. He opened his blue eyes halfway to see one of his comrades, his head peeking through the front of Kenji's tent. The man snickered.

_I was dreaming . . ._

"What?" Kenji muttered groggily.

"Chizuru-chan?" the man asked, barely restraining laughter. Kenji rolled his eyes and turned away from the man.

_Great. I was talking in my sleep again._

"Shut up, Noda." The man chuckled.

"You've got five minutes before our first day of training begins. I'd hurry up if I was you."

Kenji sighed deeply, the scenes from his dream running through his thoughts again. It had been awhile since he had dreamt about that farewell. In fact, he had been attempting to repress those memories.

* * *

"How am I supposed to use this thing?" 

"Tell me you're joking, Himura."

"No, I'm used to swords."

Kenji's companion chuckled and took the rifle from Kenji's hands and loaded it.

"Like this, see? You've seriously never used a gun?"

"No."

"Wow. You really are the exception in this regiment."

Kenji laughed outwardly, but sighed on the inside and began pulling absentmindedly at his abnormal red locks. This form of fighting would take some getting used to.


	6. Across A Sea

Wow, I had to rewrite/revise this chapter at least four times before I was content with it, so I hope everyone who reads it likes it. And a heads up to those who read In His Footsteps when I was writing that: yes, I kind of borrowed some of the beginning of this chapter from chapter three of that story. But hey, just because I stopped writing that one doesn't mean I can't reuse some material, right?

Oh yeah, more feedback would be fantastic! I like to know what I'm doing wrong and right!

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin isn't mine!

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 6: Across a Sea**

Kenji kicked his shoes off with a rare kind of enthusiasm, wiggling his toes with pleasure in their new freedom. He set the shoes aside in the sand, then glanced around once more to observe his surrounding. His sharp blue eyes failed to spot anyone nearby, and he took a deep, cleansing breath before stepping into the crystal clear ocean water before him.

A refreshing mixture of mud and sand squeezed up between his blistered toes, the cool water swishing around his bare ankles and bringing much longed-for refreshment to his sore feet. Impulsively Kenji pulled his shirt off and cast it aside, sighing in joyous relief as he splashed lake water over his sun-beaten and exposed shoulders. Without further hesitation the young man walked into the lake until the chilly water lapped against his stomach, then took a deep breath and immersed himself completely in the sea's unknown depths.

He rose from the salty water laughing, an uncommon endeavor for him, brushing the drenched red hair out of his face and then relaxing, allowing his body to float on top of the water's sparkling surface. This was a highly needed and well deserved escape.

The waves eventually bore him back to land, but he remained basking in the sun on the beach and enjoying the regular washing of small waves over his aching frame, when an unsure voice quietly spoke his name.

"Kenji?"

The redhead flew into a sitting position and whirled around, instinctively reaching for the nearest weapon. But he had left anything with which to defend himself behind, and he was left to stare at the sudden arrival blankly.

"Kenji?" the dark-haired young man repeated apprehensively, "is that really you?"

Kenji raised a curious eyebrow. The young man wasn't wearing a uniform, and he didn't recognize him as a familiar soldier. Besides, to everyone in the regiment he was just 'Himura.' Nearly no one referred to him with his given name.

Somewhere in his mind the fact that the stranger had spoken Japanese registered, as well as the detail that the man was wearing purely Japanese clothing. He squinted, staring harder. The truth only took a few moments to hit him.

"Soichiro!"

The other man smiled, the same kind, parental smile he had worn ever since they had met.

"So it is you. You've changed a lot, Kenji."

Kenji scrambled to his feet and stepped forward to shake his old friend's hand.

"Really? You haven't changed a bit. What brings you all the way out here?"

Soichiro shrugged. "Farming wasn't going so well this year."

"So you joined the army?"

"I decided to check up on an old friend, that's all."

"Well come on," Kenji said, chuckling in elated disbelief, "we'll find a place for you to stay."

* * *

Kenji pulled himself off the ground slowly the next morning, yawning and sticking his arms high in the air in a long stretch. After a few moments he reached blindly into the bag at his side, digging for a pad of paper he knew was there. Quickly he made another mark on the white sheet, symbolizing one more day of his time in this country, just like every other morning.

_Has it really been that long?_

He glanced over the various marks on the sheet, then at Soichiro, who was still sleeping a few feet away, and began to calculate the overall time since he had left home in his head. Then he sighed deeply. He had been in the army for so long that it felt as if his time here had constituted his entire life. Those things that had occurred in Japan, or Tokyo and Kyoto, at least, were just fleeting memories, the objects of his dreams.

At least, they _had_ been, until Soichiro had unexpectedly arrived in camp. With his appearance, all of the experiences Kenji had been disregarding suddenly came crashing back into his conscious mind, serving as a rather rude and disturbing awakening. For the past several months it had been easier to just forget.

Deciding that stalling any longer would be an unwise decision, Kenji reached for his uniform and began to quickly dress, cringing for the thousandth time at having to wear such uncomfortable clothing compared to his characteristic hakama and gi. His new garb consisted of a dark blue tunic with matching pants, each with red trim. He slipped his round brimmed kepi, of the same color, onto his head, rubbing absentmindedly at the bright yellow star and brass band on it.

The sakabatou, although, useless in his current circumstances, still lay among his other meager supplies. Kenji lifted the weapon and pulled it from its dusty sheath, looking pensively at his reflection in the glimmering silver blade.

For a moment he saw himself as his friends had seen him, how Soichiro had seen him until yesterday, as an arrogant adolescent, all those years ago. But the face in the sword wasn't that of a bitter teenage boy. The classic martial art clothing he had grown up in had been replaced by the uniform of the Japanese Imperial Army. His face had aged, the few traces of boyishness that had existed in it now completely absent. And his long, admired red locks were all but gone, chopped off to the point where they only fell to his ears, barely protruding from under his cap. He definitely wasn't the same swordsman anymore, at least by appearance. He smiled wanly at himself. No wonder Soichiro nearly hadn't recognized him. What would everyone else say if they saw him now?

He began to turn the sakabatou over in his hands slowly. The times when he had trained with this weapon seemed like an eternity ago. He had long ago traded that steel in for a 6.5 mm rifle and a shining, fatal bayonet. At first it had just been a game, an escape from incessant boredom, a chance to train even more in hopes of surpassing his father. But it hadn't taken him long to figure out that playtime was over when Japan had decided to send a large contingent of soldiers to China to put down the Boxer Rebellion, Kenji included.

Kenji slipped his sword back into its sheath, then began to attach it to the outside of his field pack, where it had rested unused for almost all of the time he had spent here.

Four years. It had been four years since he had stepped onto that ship in Tokyo's harbor, four years since he had bidden farewell to everyone and everything he had ever known, four years since he had become a soldier, four years since he had met—

A gentle rustling of tent flaps behind him drew his attention to the entrance of a familiar woman. He didn't bother getting up or turning around to greet her.

"You're still hauling that old piece of junk around?" the woman questioned as she eyed the sakabatou. "I thought I told you to get rid of it."

Kenji easily ignored the comment. He was getting better at only acknowledging the things he wanted to hear her say.

"Hello, Ai. Shouldn't you be with Itagaki-san?"

"Oh, he's talking about war again, and you know he's no fun when he gets like that," she replied in a blasé voice.

"He's the colonel of the regiment, Ai. What do you expect?"

She sighed again, forcing Kenji to smile. He had known her long enough to know when she was just trying to be dramatic. When he didn't respond she pouted and walked over to kneel next to him.

"Anyway, take me shopping today, will you? I saw the most beautiful kimono the other day when I was—"

"Very well."

She rewarded him with a pleased smile and a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving a crimson outline of her lips on the side of his pale face. Kenji impatiently wiped it away with his sleeve as he finished fastening the last strap on his pack, then turned to face her with a stern and unmoving face. Her lips turned down in a fake whimper upon seeing his expression.

"Please don't make me go," she pleaded pathetically. Kenji stared blankly at the coquettish and manipulative woman, unable to supply an excuse to make her leave.

"You're going to wake up Soichiro and Noda," he said, referring to the other soldier with whom he shared a tent.

Ai glanced at the sleeping figure on the ground, raising an impressed eyebrow and curling her lips into a curious smile.

"Soichiro . . . so that's his name? You should keep him around, Kenji. I like him."

"Ai, how many times do I have to tell you that you can't—"

"I know, I know. I'm just looking, all right?"

Kenji looked at her again with a conceding sigh. She was fairly tall when she stood, just as tall as him, although that wasn't much of an accomplishment considering his genes (he had long ago surpassed Kenshin, but was still be no means remarkable in his height). Ai's hair was jet black, and fastened in an ornate bun high atop her head. Her dark green, silk kimono was decorated with chrysanthemums of various sizes and shades, and tied with a tan obi. Her white, painted face and gray eyes practically exuded mystery and allure, and Kenji had seen more than one smitten man suffer from their effects. After all, even Kenji couldn't deny that she was beautiful.

Kenji turned away from her and began to chuckle to himself. He had always greatly admired his colonel as a capable leader and a powerful man, but this geisha that traveled with him was another story. She spent more time with the soldiers than Itagaki anyway.

She jumped in surprise as Soichiro began to stir, and her hand immediately flew to smooth her kimono and hair. Kenji smiled as her transformation began.

He never ceased to be amazed at the completely polar personalities she could adopt without even a moment's notice. As Soichiro's eyes drifted open, she was suddenly a quiet, demure, almost painfully polite geisha. She was always like this when they were around other people, but when she was alone with those few she trusted, of whom Kenji was included, she was just like any other girl, though perhaps more selfish and domineering.

_Oh well._

"Perhaps you should leave now," Kenji suddenly whispered. Ai shot him an angry glare, but smiled as Soichiro came nearer to complete consciousness. Surprisingly, she complied, and almost silently rose and drifted toward the exit, turning just once to wink at Kenji and blow him a kiss.

"Bye."

He just rolled his eyes.

* * *

"How long will you be here?" Kenji asked between mouthfuls.

"Who knows? Until this escapade in China is over."

"So you actually joined the army?"

"Yeah. Odd that we were assigned to the same regiment, isn't it?"

Kenji only nodded.

"Misao and Aoshi had their baby, right?"

"Yeah. It was a girl; they named her Asuka." Soichiro chuckled as he recalled the hyperactive four-year-old. "She's just like both of her parents. She can be as frightening as her father, as stubborn as Misao, and someday she'll be just as powerful as both of them."

Kenji smiled. A child like that was easy to imagine, almost _too_ easy. Misao and Aoshi surely had their hands full.

"Have you seen anyone in Tokyo?"

"Yes, just before I left. Shinya's four now too, a miniature Yahiko."

Kenji sighed. "Things really have changed a lot, haven't they?"

"Not really. Everyone misses you, though. You haven't written in years."

"Sorry. I've been gone so long, I'd almost forgotten that I used to live there."

Kenji glanced musingly toward the entrance of camp, where a small group of fresh soldiers was entering to replace some who had recently returned home to Japan. Ai was there beside Itagaki, greeting them all in her perfect, rehearsed way. He smiled and began to turn away, but at the last moment his eyes unexpectedly caught sight of a lonely figure who stood out among the new soldiers like a glowing white rose amongst dying weeds.

For a moment Kenji thought he had seen his mother, once again young and vibrant. But upon his second, more thorough glance, he realized that the new arrival was a stranger, though she was still strikingly familiar. Ai frowned as she saw that his attention was focused on the other young woman, but for some reason Kenji couldn't help following the stranger's movements for a few moments longer. The girl had dark, raven tresses pulled to the back of her head and adorned with a beautifully simplistic red comb. On her slim figure was a white kimono, dotted with sakura blossoms. Kenji raised a tapered red eyebrow as she laughed at something Itagaki had said. The sound was lilting, almost childish. It matched her face, with its wide and naïve almond eyes and bright, youthful features. But he was sure she was around his age. And she seemed so familiar . . .

"Noda!"

The passing soldier paused as Kenji called his name. "What?"

"Who is that?" he asked, pointing to the young woman.

Noda shrugged. "I don't know. She sure is pretty though, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is." He glanced at Soichiro to see if he agreed. But his friend's jaw had dropped, and after a few moments of staring vacantly he moved his mouth to doubtfully exclaim one pained word.

"Chizuru!"


	7. Circumstances of a Reunion

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters. 

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 7: Circumstances of a Reunion**

A perfectly oriented array of white petals blossomed outward from the small, pale yellow center of the flower, all atop a slender green stem, just recently plucked from its dark, earthy home. The fragile bloom was balanced between two careful fingers, one of which would intermittently reach up to gently stroke a pearly petal. The holder sighed heavily and allowed his shoulders to sag.

_What am I doing?_

It was just Chizuru, right? Nothing had changed, he had to remember that. He shouldn't have been worked up by something so trivial as her unexpected arrival.

An almost bitter laugh erupted from him. She had changed so _much!_ He hadn't even recognized her as he had first seen her, but as soon as her eyes had found _him_, why, she known him instantly.

It wasn't that surprising in reality, he was willing to admit. The color of his hair was a dead giveaway, despite its loss of length since they had last seen each other. And even if there _were_ more Japanese redheads, how many of them had blue eyes? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he should have been more shocked if she _hadn't_ recognized him.

No, what was truly disturbing to the soldier was _how_ she had reacted. The moment their eyes met and recognition dawned, he had braced himself for either a painfully powerful hug or an angry slap across his face for not writing. He had stood dumbfounded when instead she just walked slowly up to him, gave a slight bow, and smiled shyly.

"_It's been awhile, hasn't it."_

No, her appearance definitely wasn't the only thing that had changed. She hadn't even stubbornly fought back during Soichiro's harsh chastisement of her decision to follow him. She just smiled and shrugged, saying that is seemed like a good idea at the time.

Kenji smiled. It could have been worse. At least she hadn't given in and left.

But what on earth had she been doing since he joined the army? He hadn't thought about her for years, and Soichiro mentioned nothing about her at his arrival. A part of his past he had chosen to forget was back, and he was struggling to face it. He had barely been able to bring himself to speak to her since her sudden appearance.

"Is it for her?"

Kenji glanced up at Ai with tumultuous eyes, giving her an ashen smile before looking back to the flower in his loose grip. She sighed and seated herself next to him, eyeing the plant with disdain, perhaps a bit of envy.

"I hope it's not for her. She's _so_ unbearably annoying, you know? She tries to come across as some perfect little angel, always trying to help with something. I can't stand it! She's too nice for her own good, and she's naïve and so foolish, I don't know how Itagaki puts up with it. And poor Soichiro, having her as a sister! She isn't even that pretty, either. I don't know why all of the soldiers swoon over her. I swear I can't stand her—"

"She reminds me of my mother."

The censurer paused, a glimpse of regret passing briefly over her features for perhaps the first time. She looked down.

"Oh."

"Did you know we used to farm together?" Kenji asked in a distressed, almost desperate tone. "She and Soichiro and I—we spent every free moment together. She was like a little sister to me. Back then, she was much more stubborn, and it seemed like she got upset over the littlest things, too. She was so funny." He let the tiny flower slip from his fingers and dropped his face to rest in his now open hands. "You know, for a long time I thought that she and Soichiro were the only ones that could really understand me, because they were orphans too." He sighed again. "Ai, why did I ever leave them behind?"

The geisha watched the dispirited man sadly for a few moments before pushing herself to her feet and attempting to pull him after her.

"Come on Kenji, I know what will make you feel better."

* * *

"Stop it Ai, that's your sixth one. You shouldn't be doing this."

She ignored him as she drained another serving of sake, smiling and covering her mouth with one hand after an unladylike hiccup.

"Stop being so stiff Kenji, no one's going to find out. Just have some! I promise it'll help." She pushed some of the tempting amber liquid toward him with an encouraging smile.

"No, Ai."

The woman shrugged and turned back to what remained of her sake. She had dragged him here about an hour ago, expecting him to drown his apparent sorrows in alcohol. Watching Hiko waste himself on the drink during his adolescent years had already led Kenji to develop a distaste for it, so naturally he declined. Besides, what would happen if another soldier found a soldier and the colonel's geisha out cold in a bar? Because despite Ai's continual assurances that no one would see them, he knew that more than one soldier in the regiment frequented these places.

He had to admit, though, that Ai's hope to turn his thoughts away from Chizuru had mostly worked. Between worry about being caught, amusement from watching Ai drunk, and surprise at her willingness to take this risk, and as a geisha, his mind had barely visited Chizuru since they had entered the building. Ai really was an unusual woman . . .

"What is that girl to you really, Kenji?" Ai suddenly blurted in shameless curiosity.

"What?"

"She's more than a friend, right?"

Kenji's eyes widened and he leaned back in surprise.

"Ai, you're drunk. You don't know what you're talking about."

"No I'm noooot . . ." she slurred out, tipping her head to the side so one hand could support it.

Kenji shook his head as he pulled her sake out of her reach. She glared at him for a moment, but seemed to promptly forget his gesture as she laid her head on the table with a sigh.

"You said you were both orphans, right?"

"Yes."

Another sigh. "What was your mother like, Kenji?"

"She was . . . she was nice, Ai."

"That's not a very good answer."

"How would you know? You can hardly sit up without seeing double right now."

She smiled, but ignored the criticism. "My mother was really smart. Really smart and really beautiful. She was a fool, too, though." She paused, and Kenji thought he saw a solitary tear dripping to the table and smearing her makeup. He raised an eyebrow. She had never shown emotions like that before.

"Did you know your father, Kenji?"

He jumped, caught off guard by her question. Then he frowned.

"No."

"Really? Neither did I. Kaa-san never really told me about him, she just said that he left before I was born." Ai bit her lip and began to blink more rapidly. "She made me so mad. She always pretended to be so strong, but I always heard her crying at night. I know she really missed him, no matter what she said."

"Ai, you probably shouldn't be telling me this—"

"I hate him."

"Ai, didn't you . . ." he stopped in mid-sentence. "What?"

"I hate him. My father hurt her so much . . . that's why I ran away from home."

"To find him?"

"Yeah."

Kenji let out a doubtful chuckle and shook his head. "Maybe we have more in common than I thought, Ai."

"What?"

"Never mind."

They fell into silence as Kenji's thoughts wandered and Ai regained the liquor Kenji had taken away. She hiccuped and giggled, and a serious expression overtook Kenji's face.

"Ai, what if Itagaki finds you here?"

"Who cares? I really hate that man, anyway."

"Then why—"

Ai smiled sardonically, sensing his question before he asked it. "It's hard to survive on your own when you're young and you've run away from home, you know. It wasn't long before I fell into deep poverty. That stupid man found me and promised to help . . . and I was so foolish I believed him."

Her eyes became oddly unfocused as she remembered with a frown and a few more tears. "I suppose I should be grateful, in a way. He took me to an okiya and paid for all of my expenses and schooling." She laughed bitterly. "Some existence he's given me." The geisha let her head fall forward to rest on the table again. "I really hate him, Kenji."

Kenji just watched the top of her head quietly, unable to supply a response. He hadn't wanted to know that. He had felt a wide variety of emotions toward the geisha in the time they had known each other, but pity had never been one of them. It was an odd, uncomfortable feeling.

"You never answered my question, Kenji."

"What question?"

"Is she more than a friend or not?"

"That's not a fair question, Ai. We haven't seen each other in years—"

"Stop avoiding the answer and tell me."

He smiled at her persistence and eyed the cup in her hand.

"You know, maybe I will have some sake."

* * *

An unbearable and unfamiliar pain greeted Kenji as he began to awaken several hours later. He yelped quickly after attempting to open his heavy eyes.

"Finally awake?"

He groaned upon hearing the sarcastic feminine voice and reached up to rub his eyes. He nearly jumped when he felt his face, which was strangely cool and clammy.

"What's wrong with me?"

"You got drunk, that's what, you idiot."

"Ai?"

His companion released a quick, condescending breath.

"No, she was just as bad as you. You're lucky Soichiro found you before someone else did. He got the two of you out of there before anyone saw you. You've been unconscious ever since, and vomiting all night long. It's quite disgusting."

"Who—"

"It's me, stupid. And what were you thinking, going off and getting drunk with that woman? Honestly, you never would have done something so ridiculous back in Japan—"

"Chizuru?"

He heard her sigh impatiently. "Who else would I be, Kenji? Really, have you lost all sense since joining the army?"

He chuckled at that, despite his current less-than-ideal condition. Maybe she hadn't changed so much after all.

"Chizuru?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you're here."

If his eyes had been open, he would have seen the pleased smile that leapt onto her face.

"Oh stop it. You're still delusional."

Sorry it's been a little longer than usual since I updated! I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, but I'll be out of town part of this week and there's still a lot to get done before I go, so don't count on anything too incredibly soon. I'd like to thank those that have reviewed this story so far, as always, you're very helpful. _Suzu_


	8. The Heat of Battle

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 8: The Heat of Battle**

The look on his face had been priceless.

Chizuru rolled over on her futon and muffled a giggle as she recalled Kenji's expression upon seeing her again. At first she hadn't even recognized him; he had changed drastically. But one glance at the red tufts of hair peeking out of his hat, and she had instantly known the man vacantly staring at her.

She supposed she had changed a lot too, which was most likely the cause of his surprise when Soichiro had called her name. Four years _had_ passed. They weren't children anymore. But where had this strapping young soldier come from? He looked so much stronger and more powerful, and he was infinitely kinder. Where had the bitterness gone? She smiled again and sighed. It seemed as if he was healing. This time in the army had done him good.

Suddenly she was no longer regretful when she thought of his departure.

Still, she was glad she had finally found him after all of this time. It appeared as if he would need her and Soichiro's guidance, especially after that incident at the bar with that other woman. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself. _Oh well._ At least he had seemed regretful.

Sleep had nearly claimed her when a barrage of footsteps abruptly sounded outside, catching her interest. After only a few seconds of indecisiveness, she pushed her covering aside and knelt near the front of the tent.

The ivory orb in the sky cast a dim ray of light across Chizuru's pale face through the slit in the tent through which she was peeking. She ducked instinctively away from the opening as another soldier sprinted by, but soon pushed one dark eye back to the light to observe the camp's nightly occurrences.

"Chizuru, what are you doing?" an obviously antagonized voice scolded. Chizuru turned to face the tent's other occupant.

"Sorry Ai, did I wake you? I just wondered what was going on. It's usually much more quiet at night."

The geisha groaned softly. "We're probably moving out in the morning. I suppose it was only a matter of time."

"Moving out? Where?"

"Beijing of course, where else—" she paused at the blank look on Chizuru's face. "Wait, don't tell me you don't know why the army's actually here . . ."

The younger woman blushed and shrugged.

"You followed your brother all the way to China without even finding out why he was coming first?"

There was an embarrassed chuckle. "Guilty."

Ai scowled. "Ignorant little—"

"What?"

She cut off the grumbling and turned to face her companion. "Haven't you ever heard of the Boxers?"

"Well, a little . . ."

Ai maintained just enough composure to keep her hands at her side and away from the oblivious Chizuru's neck.

"They're a group here in China that call themselves the 'fists of righteous harmony,' or something like that. They've been trying to rid the place of all foreigners, especially Christian missionaries, it seems. Japan and six or seven other countries sent forces here a few months ago to rescue foreign ambassadors and other high and mighty people like that. We had a victory in Tientsin not long before you got here, and now the international forces have to move on to Beijing to rescue the foreigners the Boxers have under siege there. You really didn't know about any of this?"

"No, I guess not. But that's terrible! How could a group attack innocent people like that?"

"Did you think the army was here because they were being nice to us?" Ai spit out.

Chizuru scowled. "Sorry."

The attention of both women was drawn back to what was passing outside as the tent flap was pulled aside and moonlight flooded onto them. Chizuru squinted at the dark figure in the entryway.

"Soichi? What are you doing here?"

Her brother grabbed her wrist as he attempted to regain his breath.

"Come on Chizuru, we're leaving."

"Are we going to Beijing?"

"The army is, not you."

Chizuru dug her heels into the ground. "What?"

Soichiro rolled his eyes. "Chizuru, we don't have time for this. You're going to be escorted to somewhere where it's safe until we're back."

"But I want to go! What about Ai, is she staying behind?"

"No."

"But—"

"Ai-san is Colonel Itagaki's concern, and you're mine. Come on, we have to move quickly."

She allowed herself to be dragged along for a few more of Soichiro's wide paces until a flash of red caught her eye, and she smiled to herself mischievously.

"Kenji! You'll convince my brother to let me come with you, won't you?"

"Sorry Chizuru, it's not safe."

"Kenji—"

She was cut off as two unfamiliar soldiers grabbed either arm and began to pull her away from her brother and Kenji, who watched her depart with smirks.

"Don't worry," Soichiro called, "these men will take care of you."

"Soichiro!" she ranted, "that's not fair!"

Kenji just chuckled as she was dragged unwillingly away.

"Those men will have their hands full."

"I just hope they can keep track of her. She's as stubborn as . . . well, you remember."

* * *

In a matter of hours, the troops stood within sight of the capital city of Beijing. Kenji stared at its forbidding walls with awe and pleasure. It had been months since he had seen a city large enough to rival his home, Tokyo, and the sounds and smells of civilization were oddly comforting.

They would attack soon. Kenji felt his heart jumping in his chest with excitement. This was it. This was the moment they had been waiting for for weeks. This whole mess was about to come to an end.

A few harsh commands echoed in his head, and suddenly his feet were moving, his shiny black boots dropping in unison with all of the others around him. His rifle was loaded and rested impatiently in trembling hands.

_Cl-click. Cl-click._

Kenji frowned. Someone's footsteps were off. Honestly, after all of this training . . .

He turned his head a fraction to the right and almost immediately caught sight of the culprit, a few down the line. The soldier was actually watching him, but when their eyes met the other man's darted to the ground. Kenji raised an eyebrow. The soldier was shorter than all of the others, and his uniform appeared several sizes too large. But most importantly, he was completely and utterly undisciplined. He continued walking out of step, was constantly fidgeting, and held his gun as if he was afraid of it.

_Boom!_

The cannon fire drew Kenji's attention away from the misfit for a short moment, but when he looked back the size of his eyes doubled and he swore violently. Thankfully, the pandemonium that had erupted after the unexpected shot gave him ample opportunity to grab the odd 'soldier' and dart out of the ranks before anyone noticed.

The soldier's cap had been knocked off as a nearby man had jumped in surprise after hearing the cannon. Kenji had looked back to see long raven locks spilling over the soldier's shoulders, while the soldier glanced nervously around and frantically tried to retrieve the hat from the ground. He pulled his temporary prisoner as far away from the battle as possible, which happened to be into a small Chinese hut near the outskirts of the city. He whirled on the fake soldier after slamming the door shut, seething.

"CHIZURU!"

The young woman laughed nervously and backed up a step.

"What on _earth_ do you think you're doing!"

"I was . . . curious?"

"Curious? You were _curious?_" he fumed. "Chizuru, this is a WAR! How could you have done something so idiotic? This isn't a game! You have no training, Chizuru! You could have been killed out there!"

Chizuru crossed her arms and turned her lips down in a pout. "As if you have any room to criticize _me_ about stupid decisions," she muttered. "You're the one that got drunk with a woman strictly forbidden to you."

"This isn't about me, Chizuru," Kenji yelled back, slightly staggered by the low blow. "Do you even comprehend what you've done? Not only have you put yourself in mortal danger, but you've broken laws, you've jeopardized this mission, you've—"

"I could have handled it."

Kenji found himself scowling wrathfully at her counter. He looked her straight in the face, his blue eyes hard and venomous, the same eyes that when used by his mother had cowed even the great Hitokiri Battousai. In retrospect, he would realize that reacting so violently hadn't been the best decision he had ever made. But at that moment, he could think of no other way to get his point across and convince her of the danger she had put herself in.

Chizuru's eyebrows rose in surprise at his expression, and she took a wary step backward as he opened his mouth to speak.

"It's so easy for you, Chizuru!" he practically hissed, his voice low and almost threatening. "You live in your own perfect little undisturbed sphere of ignorant happiness," he continued, his voice dripping with heavy sarcasm and beginning to rise in volume. "You don't know the fear that accompanies living in destitution, or hunger, or loneliness, or any kind of _real_ suffering for that matter. Your hands aren't calloused from the use of a sword or bruised from the use of a gun. You've never lost _anything _or _anyone_ important to you!" By now he was yelling unrestrainedly, and Chizuru found her back pressed against the wall furthest from him, her eyes wide in shock.

"Things couldn't be any better for you, could they?" he continued. "No matter how much you believe it, you _can't_ handle it. Because you haven't been here. You haven't experienced the training or pain or hardships the rest of us have, and until you have there's absolutely no way you can comprehend what it takes to be in a war and survive!"

He paused, his chest heaving from yelling at her. Slowly he turned away from her, not wishing to view the look of annoyance on her face. He shook his head. No, it was more than mere annoyance. It was bordering on abhorrence.

"Kenji, why are you doing this?"

"Because you need to hear it, Chizuru," he said, his voice controlled and quiet again. "You know nothing of the real world. You're still just a naïve, weak little girl, no matter how much you hate or deny it."

If he had been facing her, he would have seen tears spring to her eyes as a result of his stinging words. But he was left to wait to hear her reaction, which he soon did, as she quickly regained composure and walked toward him. To say that he was surprised at her reply would be a severe understatement.

At first she said nothing, but as she reached him, she grabbed him impulsively by the shoulder, pushed him around so he was facing her again, and punched him squarely in the side of the face, harder than she had ever struck something before. He fell back a step, staring at her in wide-eyed awe, one hand involuntarily reaching up to touch his stinging cheek.

"I'm not as inexperienced as you think," she whispered lividly. "I've known pain, and loneliness, and trials, and hardships. But unlike you, I don't use such experiences to put myself on a mental pedestal and pretend to be better than those around me."

Her eyes were completely wet with angry tears now. She whirled around, but got in one more thing before storming out of the room.

"I really hope you're proud of yourself." And she exited, undeterred by the sounds of the raging battle outside, leaving Kenji perhaps the most dumbfounded he had ever been in his life.

* * *

The skirmish didn't take long to reach an end. Kenji sat lazily against the wall in the hut he had insulted Chizuru in, eyes closed in frustrated rest.

Remembrances of the long-faded past of his childhood unexpectedly rose to the forefront of his mind. His face took on a look of calm pleasure as he mentally relived the games he, Chizuru, and Soichiro had played as adolescents. They had run through fields like carefree toddlers without a single concern in the world. The biggest problems in his life back then had only arisen when Hiko was angry with him. How he longed for those days again.

"_Kenji!"_

His tense muscles relaxed as he continued reminiscing. A bittersweet smile touched his lips as he almost heard his name on the wind, as she would have said it when insincerely cross with him.

"Kenji!"

Wait, that was too real to be a memory . . .

His eyes shifted open. But it hadn't been Chizuru calling his name. It was Ai. She stood in the entryway of the hut, and as she drew closer he saw deep anxiety in her countenance, more than he had thought she was capable of expressing.

The rest of the world seemed to come to an oddly disconcerting standstill as she reached him, and all he could hear was her heavy breathing and his own increasing heartbeat. It was then that he noticed the tears threatening to overflow from the corners of her eyes. Her usually teasing expression had been replaced by one of poignant pain and confusion. Where was her stubborn resolve?

Kenji stood swiftly and stepped forward to grab her by the shoulders.

"Ai, what's wrong?" he demanded.

"Kenji, where have you been?" she got out, despite the fact that she was obviously struggling to retain her composure.

"I'm sorry, there was an emergency," he said quickly. "Now tell me what's going on!"

His thoughts immediately shot to Chizuru. Had something happened to her? He _had_ let her run off into the battle again, after all. He had thought she would be safe, unless she had attempted to fight again . . .

He turned his attention back to Ai, only to see her staring sorrowfully up at him, a single tear carving its way down her pallid cheek.

"It's Soichiro, Kenji."

* * *

Well, there you go, chapter 8. Thanks reviewers! _Next Chapter: Her Crimson Scar_


	9. Her Crimson Scar

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 9: Her Crimson Scar**

"Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!" Kenji muttered repeatedly to himself as he darted through a series of shadowed Chinese streets. "Why am I such an _idiot!_"

As his eyes searched frantically for a certain missing figure, his mind couldn't help but revisit that hideous conversation he had experienced earlier in the afternoon. Ai had been horrified, more distraught than he had seen anyone since the time of his parents' deaths.

"_What do you mean, 'it's Soichiro?' What happened?"_

"_Itagaki . . . Itagaki sent him into battle even though he didn't have sufficient training yet—"_

"_He WHAT? Why would he do something like that when he knew—"_

_Ai had cut his rant short with one quiet word. "Kenji."_

"_What is it?"_

"_You're not listening. Itagaki sent him to fight, and he . . . well . . ."_

"_He what?"_

_Her gray eyes had sparkled with unshed tears. "He didn't make it."_

_Kenji's jaw parted slightly, his boiling blood suddenly felt icy cold. "You, you mean . . ."_

"_Yes, Kenji. Soichiro is dead."_

Kenji refused to let his own emotions take control. He knew that what she had spoken was truth, somehow. He would never see his best friend again, at least not alive. But he would not express sorrow, he would not grieve, and he would _not_ cry. Because as Ai had uttered those dreaded words, his own loss hadn't been the first thing to enter his mind. Instead he was instantly haunted with something he had said just minutes before hearing the news.

"_You've never lost _anything_ or _anyone_ important to you!"_

"I'm such an idiot!"

Why had he gotten so angry with her? He should have controlled his temper, he shouldn't have said those monstrous things. She was absolutely furious after being so harshly insulted, and now someone had to tell her that her brother was dead . . .

"_That's not all, Kenji."_

He had almost been afraid to ask what else she had to say, but Ai hadn't waited for him to.

"_Chizuru is missing."_

"_I know . . . I mean, you see, she—"_

"_I know what she did, Kenji. I caught her taking one of your uniforms just before she left."_

"_And you let her go?"_

"_I couldn't have stopped her. But she promised that she would come back as soon as the battle was over, and well, it's been over for awhile now."_

"_You don't think—"_

"_I don't know, Kenji. Who knows, there's always the chance that she may have found her brother before anyone else did—"_

That thought was appalling to Kenji. She would be unpredictable under those circumstances. That was why he emotionlessly ignored the implications of Soichiro's death. Finding Chizuru and making sure she was safe was most important right now. It was true that she could have found her brother's corpse and run away as a result of the emotional trauma, but he couldn't be _sure. _She could have been in the battle too, she could have been taken hostage, or killed like him . . .

A heavy wave of guilt poured over him for about the thousandth time, and he found himself regretting once again absolutely everything he had ever said to her about being naïve and ignorant to the reality of the world. He could only imagine the pain she was going through right now, if she was still even alive. He had been so ineffably stupid.

His legs seemed to fill with lead as he trudged on. His surroundings blurred as his feet carried him from location to location. His morale dropped by a degree each time a place proved to be devoid of Chizuru. How far could she have made it? He had been scouring the city for hours.

But this territory was unfamiliar. The city was huge, and before long darkness had completely descended upon it. It was beginning to rain, and Kenji was completely lost.

"Young man!"

He turned toward the voice desperately.

"Yes?"

"You're a member of the Japanese army, right?" an elderly man asked in muddled Japanese, his head peeking through a lighted window.

"Hai."

"Were there any . . . uh, young women in your regiment?"

A flicker of hope erupted in his chest. "Sort of, have you seen a female soldier recently?"

"Yes, my wife and I saw her wandering through here after the battle. She looked pretty rough, so we invited her in. She's sleeping now."

Kenji had burst into the small home before the man could invite him in.

"Where is she?" he demanded impatiently, ignoring the old man's enigmatic smile.

"Right through there."

Kenji's being simultaneously overflowed with relief and worry as he laid eyes on the quietly sleeping girl. He felt as if someone was ripping his heart right out of his chest and stomping on it with a steel boot as he watched her. Her pain was so obvious that one could almost feel it permeating the warm air in the room. Her face was contorted with anguish, her forehead dotted with small beads of cool sweat. She was lying on her side and curled in the fetal position, wrapped in one of _his_ uniforms, and seemed to represent the epitome of misery. Then he saw the blood.

Her hands, now tightly wrapped around her upper arms, were covered in the dry crimson residue. Her pants, too, which had previously been crisply clean, were red up to her knees where she had kneeled next to her brother's body. She shifted slightly in her sleep, and his sharp eyes noticed that the side of her face against the pillow held a hand-shaped stain. He felt ill as the image arose in his mind of her kneeling next to Soichiro's body and holding his bloody hand to her face, only to realize that he was already dead.

A chapter in her life had closed. Things would be infinitely different from now on, both of them knew it. But Kenji still couldn't help feeling that sharp pang of regret for being so biting in his criticism of her. It had seemed like the right thing to do then, after all, he had had good intentions. But now . . .

He pushed his regrets aside and knelt down next to her, gently lifting her while trying not wake her and cradling her limp body in one arm. With the other he reached for a bucket of water and a cloth conveniently placed nearby, and began to carefully wipe away the blood on her cheek. Red-stained drops of water dripped steadily to the floor, some onto Kenji's lap, but he ignored them. He made quick work of restoring her marred face to its familiar beauty, half-doubting the entire time if this was all really happening. When he had finished he placed the now red cloth on the rim of the bucket and tenderly dried her face with his sleeve. She began to stir.

Kenji quickly laid her back down before she completely regained consciousness and turned back to the bucket to wring out the cloth. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Soichiro?"

He swallowed hard. "No, Chizuru."

Her eyes widened as they adjusted to the soft light. "Kenji? Is that you?"

He turned back around to fully face her and nodded, his face passive. "Let me see your hand."

She raised one thin eyebrow in confusion. "Kenji, why would you need to see my hand? And where are—" She stopped as she glanced at the appendage, and a deluge of memories her dreary mind had temporarily pushed aside flooded back in. Her eyes jumped to her other hand, then to her bloody pants.

"Soichi . . ." she whispered in unfathomable horror.

Kenji had to look away as her eyes glassed over. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve this much pain.

"I'll wait for you outside," he mumbled, standing. "When you're ready I'll take you back to camp. The regiment is worried about you." He turned to leave, but felt a slight resistance to his movement.

Upon turning back around, he saw that the hem of one pant leg was held fast between Chizuru's feeble fingers. She was staring helplessly up at him, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

"Kenji, please don't leave right now," she beseeched, her voice trembling, "_please._"

He buckled. How could he deny her after that? Soichiro surely would have been a more appropriate source of comfort for her, but Soichiro wasn't here. And he couldn't just _leave_ her like this.

He knelt back down and placed his hands on her shoulders. "What is it?" he asked, his voice holding a degree of concern even _he_ wasn't used to hearing from it.

She wiped quickly at her eyes. "Kenji, it's all m-my fault. I could have helped him, I could have—"

"I doubt there was anything you could have done, Chizuru," he interrupted. "You are not at fault."

"You must think I'm so weak and pathetic," she continued, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks, "you must hate me for this."

"Don't speak of yourself in that way. You have to be strong, Chizuru. You can get through this."

She looked up at him abruptly, shocked that even in his slight criticism he was being gentle. Her composure crumpled, and she leaned forward before Kenji could even react, burying her head in his chest and gripping his jacket tightly.

He almost protested, almost grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back, asking what on earth she thought she was doing, but for some reason couldn't. He almost took the fact that she was seeking _him_ for comfort as a compliment. She was supposed to be angry with him.

Almost of their own accord, his arms reached out and wrapped themselves around the distressed girl, drawing her closer as she lost control to hysterical sobs.

It didn't take long for Kenji to realize that she was doing more than just crying, and he leaned his head forward, straining his ears to catch what she was saying.

"Oh Kenji," she choked out, "you were right. I-I knew nothing about true suffering and pain, absolutely nothing. This . . . this is awful." She paused to wipe away some tears, but her efforts proved useless as another waved followed right behind that one. "And compared to you . . . and the war . . . I probably still don't understand anything." She tightened visibly, cowering like an abandoned child. "I'm such a fool."

Kenji listened quietly to her self-degrading words, abstaining from criticizing her for it as he usually would have. Right now she just needed to cry.

After what seemed like an eternity to both of them, Chizuru's sobs finally subsided, gradually decreasing to occasional whimpers, and then nothing at all. Kenji opened his mouth and murmured softly but sincerely, "I'm sorry, Chizuru. If there's anything I can do to help, please tell me."

She shook her head against his chest. "No, I'm sorry," she whispered. Kenji felt his own eyes start to sting with tears at her words. He had no idea what she would be sorry for, but it didn't really matter. He bowed his head slightly so that his mouth hovered just above her ear.

"Don't be."

He sighed peacefully and actually smiled as she remained silent. She had cried, and in front of him at that, and as long as she wasn't bottling up her feelings inside she would heal.

He felt oddly empty as she pulled back, smiling up at him despite her red eyes.

"I'm going to make things right, Kenji, I promise." He merely smiled and gave her a nod, then stood and pulled her to her feet.

Things were going to be all right.

* * *

Wow, I think that was my fastest update ever. What can I say? I was excited about this one. I know this chapter was kind of short, but if all goes as planned, the next one will be long enough to make up for it. I'm glad people are reading this, but I'm not updating again until I get more reviews! As always, though, I'd like to thank those that _have _reviewed. You guys are great. Next Chapter: _Betrayal_. Until next time! _—Suzu_


	10. Betrayal

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 10: Betrayal**

When the rain had finally stopped pouring, and Chizuru had been safely returned to her tent, Kenji reentered his own, sinking next to his belongings with a heavy sigh. Noda, the only soldier with whom he now shared the small shelter, was reclining in one corner, cigarette hanging limply from his lips. He chuckled and opened one eye to watch Kenji.

"What's so funny?"

"I see you're not dead."

Kenji lacked the desire and energy to counter his quip. "No."

Instead he just began shoving his few scattered belongings into his pack, and fastened the sakabatou to his side.

"You leaving or something?"

"Maybe. Look after Chizuru for me if I don't come back, all right?"

Noda smirked and shrugged. "Whatever."

Kenji slipped silently out of his tent and into the black night, his possessions slung over his shoulder. His feet padded quietly over the damp ground, squishing slightly and leaving water-filled footprints behind him. He was going to confront Itagaki about his decision concerning Soichiro, and for some reason he suspected that the coming conversation would be less than pleasant. He might have to flee quickly.

Itagaki's tent came into view within a few moments. A soft yellow glow emanated from behind the thin white walls, and a quiet pair of voices floated across the night air to his ears. Sighing, Kenji paused a few feet from the door. Itagaki was conversing with the lieutenant. He turned on his heel, planning on returning to his own tent to wait patiently for his opportunity. But he came to a dead halt as a certain name passed his commanding officer's lips.

"Chizuru?" the lieutenant asked. "What's she got to do with Colonel Yuasa?"

"I owe him, remember? He was in camp the other day and saw her. He said she'll do."

Kenji stood dumbfounded on the other side of the canvas.

"You filthy piece of—"

"That's why you got rid of Raikouji, right?"

"Of course. You didn't expect her brother to let me trade her off to _that_ man, did you?"

There was laughter from both men. Kenji felt as if he was going to vomit.

"Now we just have to take care of that Himura brat."

"You really think he'd get in the way?"

"You better believe I will," Kenji whispered.

Itagaki shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it's better not to take any chances."

"So how will you get rid of him? There won't be any more battles for him to die in . . . so, a bribe?"

Itagaki chuckled. "No, he wouldn't accept a bribe. But don't you know who Himura is?" There was a pause, during which Kenji assumed the younger officer was shaking his head. "That young man in our regiment is the sole son of the legendary Hitokiri Battousai."

Kenji tensed, wondering how Itagaki could have accessed such information. Then he heard the lieutenant slowly release his breath in a low whistle. "Wow," he murmured. Then, "but how is that going to help? After all, we're in China. No one here knows the legends."

"Ah, but they do, my friend. Himura, the _elder_," Itagaki quickly added, "fought five years ago in the Sino-Japanese war. And from what I hear, he played a great part in bringing on the Japanese victory. The Chinese aren't exactly on good terms with him."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Then . . . what exactly is the plan?" the man asked somewhat hesitantly.

Itagaki's lips curled in a demonic smile. "We just let the news leak out. There will be enough revenge-seekers that Himura will be on the run in no time."

Kenji's fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically at his sides. And if his commander's betrayal thus far hadn't been sufficient, the man's next words stung him to the core.

"It won't be a major loss, anyway. Himura is living in the past, in the time of his father. Have you seen that old sword he carries around? And besides, our duty here is virtually over. He won't be of any use to us anymore."

At that the lieutenant allowed his composure to completely slip, laughing heartily. "Ah, colonel, you are truly a man of the devil."

Itagaki smirked. "As long as Himura doesn't know that."

Kenji barely retained control of himself as his commander proposed a toast, and the clinking of wine glasses came from within the tent. He took a few deep breaths, though his fingers continued to fidget in agitation at his sides.

With an air of fabricated calmness, Kenji stepped forward and gently pushed the flap of the tent aside, his expression hard and cold, but controlled. Itagaki glanced up at hearing the swish of canvas, and a wide grin spread across his face. He raised his glass in acknowledgment of his minor, and the dark wine swished gently in the pure crystal glass between his fingers.

"Ah, Himura! We were just talking about you."

Kenji's hand slipped involuntarily to his side, wrapping itself around the hilt of his sword. Slowly he withdrew the weapon, the silver blade glistening even in the dim light, accentuating its fatality.

"So I heard," he replied, his voice thick with resentment.

Itagaki just watched him for a few moments, blinking blankly. Then his fake smile slowly faded, his face paling.

"Himura, what are you doing?"

"Proving my usefulness."

Kenji wanted to smirk at the horrified looks that accompanied his words, apparent on the faces of both men.

"H-Himura," Itagaki stuttered, "now don't do anything rash. We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Kenji scowled at this commander's cowardice in the face of death. The fact that the man he had respected so much was being reduced to a spineless worm after one simple threat was highly disappointing.

"Shut up," Kenji said in a low growl, raising his father's sword high above his head and facing Itagaki directly. The commander began to involuntarily back up, until he fell backwards off of his chair and began to scuttle toward the back wall of the tent on his hands. Kenji took a step forward and dropped the sword in a swift motion.

Itagaki gulped nervously and loosened his collar as sweat poured down his pallid face. The blade had stopped in the middle of its motion right at his face, and now practically tickled the bottom of his chin.

Kenji pushed the blade forward ever so slightly, prodding his commander's unprotected throat. All three of the men in the tent knew that in one swift strike, Itagaki could be dead. Kenji's penetrating icy blue eyes bore into the soul of the man, cutting any words of protest he could mutter short. He tightened his grip on the sakabatou, and steadied himself for the final blow.

He was just seconds away from taking the man's life when his blood ran cold and his frosty eyes flickered to the blade in his hand. He blinked a few times, confused and suddenly questioning his sanity. As would be expected, the reflection in the blade was his. But he could have sworn that just a moment ago, the face wasn't that of a young hardened member of the Japanese Imperial Army. No, he had seen his father.

The image had been as clear as if his father had been standing next to him, complete with wide violet eyes, fiery red hair, and a gentle smile. And of course, under it all, was the sorrow that had always accompanied him due to his never-ending atonement.

Kenji lowered his sword, suddenly unable to bring himself to take the man's life. His mother had suffered immensely because of decisions like this. He wouldn't do that to anyone else. He didn't want an atonement to pay and burden others with. He wasn't as low as his father.

As Kenji reflected silently on his decision, Itagaki seized the opportunity and screamed for the nearest help. Instantly the tent filled to capacity with other soldiers. Itagaki, still clutching his throat even after having been helped to his feet, pointed an accusing finger at Kenji.

"He tried to kill me!" he announced, and Kenji immediately found himself restrained by several men. His sword was ripped right out of his grasp, and his hands were pulled roughly behind him and tied with coarse ropes. He fought back to the best of his ability, but the strength of his multiple opponents was overwhelming.

He smirked, however, as Itagaki stepped forward and pulled his hand away from his neck. His usually pristine white glove was stained, and Kenji noticed a small bleeding nick on his throat. He had come closer to killing the man than he had thought.

Kenji's smirk quickly disappeared as Itagaki grabbed the sheath at his side, returning the sakabatou to it and handing it to the nearest soldier. Kenji glanced at the man. It was Noda. Upon making eye contact, his former friend's eyes widened before flitting away to stare at the ground. Kenji's shoulders sagged. Why was it that all friendships would end for the sake of the government, even in its times of corruption?

Noticing that Kenji was ignoring him, Itagaki lifted his hand and struck him swiftly across the face, leaving a stinging red mark on Kenji's cheek. Kenji shifted his icy gaze to the man without even blinking. Itagaki frowned at Kenji's abstainment from showing pain.

"I'll teach you some respect," he muttered, and drove his fisted hand into Kenji's abdomen. Kenji's eyes flew open at the unexpected blow, and he would have slipped to the ground if not still supported by the soldiers restraining him.

He glared up at his commander, his breathing labored. He saw Itagaki's lips move, but heard nothing above his own heaving breaths. Just as the men holding him began to drag him backwards out of the tent, Ai entered, slipping her arm through Itagaki's and smiling and waving innocently.

Kenji chuckled to himself and dropped his head, closing his eyes. _That woman._

_

* * *

_Kenji groaned loudly as he finally came to. He could tell before even looking that his stomach was heavily bruised. For a coward, Itagaki sure had a strong punch. 

His cheek was also swollen significantly, and that side of his face throbbed incessantly. Why had Itagaki chosen the same cheek as Chizuru? He tried to reach up to touch the red flesh, but instantly moaned again. His hands were tied tightly, and any movement caused the tough ropes to cut into his already tender skin. He shifted his ankles. They were tied too.

He slowly opened his eyes, able to see from the sliver of candlelight peeking through from the front of the tent. He was laying on his side in the dirt, the voices of guards clearly discernable from just outside.

The captive sighed heavily. So this was what his father and Yahiko had left him with. Because of their influences, he was completely incapable of killing, even under the circumstances of war. He snorted.

"Some birthright," he muttered to himself.

_How am I supposed to be strong when I'm faced with that? I can't even fight back for myself._

His thoughts were interrupted as a woman's voice reached his ears from just outside. There were only two women in camp, and he really didn't want to face either of them right now. Quickly he turned onto his other side so that he would be facing away from her when she entered.

He heard her pass through the flap and stop a few feet from him.

"Kenji?"

He remained silent, staring blankly forward.

"Kenji," she repeated, a pout passing over her features, "I know you're awake."

Kenji shifted to confirm her suspicion, but remained quiet. She walked to the other side of him, squatting in front of his face in an attempt to make him look at her. He just stared at her feet.

"So much for being your favorite soldier, huh?" he said softly in referral to the title she had given him multiple times in the past. "I guess keeping Itagaki happy for the sake of your job is most important to you after all."

Ai scowled, her grey eyes narrowing. "You know I hate Itagaki."

"But you betrayed me."

"Of course I did, idiot. You're probably going to end up committing seppuku. Did you honestly think I'd take your side? It's been fun kid, but not _that_ fun."

"You talk as if there was actually something between us."

She frowned again. "Yeah, well there wasn't. _You _made sure of that, didn't you?"

Kenji chuckled to himself. "I guess you're right. How could I have been foolish enough to trust a worthless and vain—"

"Don't say it," Ai interrupted, her eyes downcast. Kenji fell silent for a few moments, then finally looked up at her face.

"Goodbye, Ai. Please leave now."

She lifted her eyes from the ground to meet his. "Don't I at least get a goodbye kiss?" He just stared at her, his eyes obviously revealing his lack of amusement at her semi-serious last request. Ai sighed and stood, glancing at him for the last time.

"Fine. You were never really any fun, you know. See you, kid."

She disappeared from the tent, and Kenji waited a few moments as he heard his guards bid her a good night. Then he managed to push himself into a sitting position, and shook his arm in a way that made a dagger he had previously hidden in his sleeve slip to the ground with a soft plop.

After a few minutes he had managed to cut himself free, and he moved to the back side of the tent. Itagaki had made a mistake in not posting any guards there. Quickly and silently he slit the canvas, and slipped through it into the black cover of night.

* * *

The camp was alive with excitement for hours after dark that night. Not only had a major battle been fought and won, but they had experienced a skirmish within their own ranks. Kenji was the talk of more than one drunken conversation that night. 

One soldier, however, quickly grew tired of the discussion, and dismissed himself to retire to bed early. The man sighed as he entered the tent he was staying in, forcing himself not to glance in the direction of one of the empty futons near his own. He wouldn't have been able to see it anyway, though. The interior of the tent was blacker than the night sky. He groped around in the darkness for a few moments for a candle, then struggled to light it. After a few moments he met with success, and a tiny flame flickered across the tent walls.

He would have screamed if not for the hand that was quickly clamped over his mouth. The lighting of the candle had revealed another figure in the tent, standing just inches from him. The look of surprise on the other man's face had been almost as great as his own, but it had disappeared as he had dropped the candle with a small yelp of shock.

He scrambled away and across the floor as his assailant released him, his bare hands searching the floor for the fallen candle. He soon found it and relit it. This time, however, there were no surprises. As the tent was bathed in light, the mysterious man found a scowling soldier standing in front of him, a bayonet held just inches away from his chest.

The soldier's scowl faded as recognition dawned. His grip on his gun loosened, but he still kept the bayonet up and ready to strike.

"Kenji?"

Kenji's eyes were narrow and unmoving, ignoring the weapon at his chest.

"Noda," he said coldly, barely above a whisper, "my sword."

Noda backed up a step, shaking his head.

"No. You . . . you betrayed Itagaki—"

"Itagaki was the one to betray trust," Kenji retorted bitterly. "My actions were merely in self-defense." He took a step toward the confounded soldier. "Now, Noda, my sword."

"You escaped, didn't you Himura? They'll be looking for you . . ." He took a few more backward steps toward the entrance of the tent. "I can't just let you go free—"

"Noda!"

Noda froze at the word. Kenji's glare was cold enough to send chills up and down his spine.

"What?"

"Does our friendship really mean that little to you?" Kenji hissed. "Itagaki tried to have me killed, Noda. He's the reason Soichiro is dead. Are you going to let him deceive you, too?"

Noda's eyes flickered from Kenji to the door and back. He was obviously struggling through an internal battle, wanting to believe his friend but fearing the consequences of such a decision.

After a few moments he took a deep breath, looking sadly at Kenji. "Your sword is behind you," he said quietly. Kenji whirled. Sure enough, the sakabatou was resting peacefully on the ground. Noda had sat it there upon entering the tent, before lighting the candle.

Without thinking, Kenji knelt to pick it up, mentally groaning as he heard Noda cock his gun.

"I'm sorry," his former fellow soldier said. "But my loyalty lies with Japan."

"Fool," Kenji muttered, turning to face the man. "Don't do anything you're going to regret, Noda."

"I wish I had said the same to you. Maybe then you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this mess."

Kenji scowled, but Noda was unmoving in his decision.

"Goodbye, Kenji."

Kenji smiled at the irony of the entire situation, standing and slipping the sakabatou through his belt. "Same to you."

"Himura's escaped!"

Several heads turned at the call, and men all around camp began to jump to their feet. Kenji just stood there, watching Noda, the one that had made the call. Noda never took his eyes from his former friend, though his gun was shaking violently in his nervous hands. Kenji smiled wryly, then lifted a hand in silent farewell.

"Don't move!" Noda cried. But Kenji ignored him, backing slowly toward the back of the tent. He withdrew his sword and shredded the tent wall with one swipe.

"Halt!" Noda yelled again. "Stop! Don't resist!" But the redhead was gradually disappearing into the darkness, with no acknowledgment whatsoever of the other soldier. Noda squeezed his eyes shut and fired, looking instantly up to see if he had hit his target. But Kenji was gone.

* * *

The camp had never seemed larger than it did now. Kenji slipped artfully through the shadows, but not getting caught proved to be a near impossible endeavor. He silently sidled along one tent's wall, keeping his eyes focused on the small group of soldiers just yards away that might spot him at any moment. He was almost there . . . 

"Kenji!"

He whirled in horror.

"Chizuru?"

But he didn't have time for any more of an exchange. Every nearby eye had swivelled to stare at the two of them. He was a dead man.

"Chizuru, follow me!" He grabbed her wrist, and before she could react he was dragging her through the camp at breakneck speed. Then he whisked her around a dark corner, and both buckled over to catch their breath.

"Kenji," she gasped, "what's going on? Someone said something about you trying to kill Itagaki—"

"I can't explain everything now Chizuru, but I have to go," he interrupted. "You can't follow me, all right?"

"But Kenji, what happened?"

He opened his mouth to describe the unexpected occurrences he had recently experienced, but stopped short. He couldn't bring himself to reveal the true circumstances of her brother's death to her, at least not now.

"Listen Chizuru, do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Just answer! Do you trust me?"

"Yes . . ." she replied tentatively.

"Then you have to believe me when I say that I did nothing wrong. I _promise._ And you, you have to get out of here as soon as you can. Go back to Japan, all right?"

"But—"

"_Promise_ me you'll go back to Japan, Chizuru!"

She sighed. "Yeah, I promise. Now tell me—"

"Shh! Someone will hear us! I have to go now."

"Kenji! Tell me what on earth is hap—"

"Be quiet Chizuru! Not so loud!"

"No! I will _not_ be quiet until you explain—"

She stopped abruptly again, a result of another one of Kenji's interruptions. But this one hadn't been vocal. Far from it, in fact.

She practically dissolved on the spot. Her face deepened five shades of red. Then her entire body stiffened; her fingers curled into fists at her sides. Almond eyes became focused forward with a faraway stare.

And then it was over. Kenji pulled his lips from hers, gave her a weak smile . . . and he was gone.

Chizuru gazed after him in a daze and raised one arm in a timid wave.

"Bye . . ."

* * *

Next Chapter: Aku 


	11. Aku

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 11: Aku**

Beijing was in chaos. Foreign presence had thrown the capital city into a carousel of confusion; the empress had disappeared, fleeing during the heat of battle, and the grandeur of the dynasty had all but collapsed. Soldiers from overseas had pillaged and plundered and grasped every shiny coin their greedy hands could hold. And yet, for many, life in the city remained largely unchanged. Beijing held its secrets. There were those dwelling in the city who knew how to avoid these threats. There remained deep in the city places to hide, places that were yet safe from both Boxer and foreign soldier. And as one young Japanese woman with still trembling lips and worried eyes watched the lights of the fading city from the back of a creaky wagon under the cover of night, the object of her concern was fleeing to such places, unawarely placing himself in the path of one who would save this traitor's life, for reasons deeper than pity. Kenji was about to discover a link between himself and this city that he never would have anticipated.

But the dark streets of Beijing could be cruel, especially to one wearing a foreign uniform in such tumultuous times. Finding compassion would at first be difficult, and the runaway found himself spending more than one night alone, outside, under torrential rain.

* * *

"Outa! Outa, come here, I found something!"

The young man rolled his eyes before turning around to join his sister. She may have been older than him, but at times she seemed just like an overly curious and silly adolescent.

"What is it, Uki?" he asked impatiently. The woman beside him just pointed in front of her, into an alley barely touched by the early morning light. Outa followed her finger, his ebony eyes widening in surprise at what he saw.

He scratched his messy dark hair contemplatively as he crouched, raising an eyebrow. On the ground in front of the two of them, covered in dirt, soaked from the previous night's downpour, and apparently unconscious, was a soldier from the Japanese Imperial Army. He was sitting up, leaning against a wall, and what could be seen of his hair peeking from under his cap was coated with so much dirt that it was impossible to discern its original color.

Outa cleared his throat, then began to speak in flawless Japanese. "Excuse me, sir? Are you hurt?" There was no response. He gently prodded the man's foot with his own, at which the soldier groaned and turned his head toward them. Upon seeing his face, Outa could tell that he was fairly young, probably about half of a decade younger than himself. The soldier opened one eye, a rare blue color, and began to mutter angrily in Japanese.

"A runaway soldier, are you?"

Two blue eyes opened wide at that.

"You speak Japanese?"

"Obviously," Uki answered for her brother.

The soldier's eyes ignored her and shifted to Outa. "Why do you ask?" he replied suspiciously.

"There have been rumors of a traitor. Japanese soldiers have been combing the streets for days."

The soldier began to massage his eyelids with a sigh. It was nothing he hadn't already known.

"How long have you been out here?"

He cracked a bleary eye open. "I don't know . . . a few days? A week, maybe two . . ."

"Have you had anything to eat?"

The soldier shook his head.

Outa glanced both ways once to assure himself of their solitude, then extended a hand toward the recumbent man, who eyed him curiously for a moment before lifting his own arm. Outa pulled him up, throwing one of the man's arms over his shoulders and half-leading, half-dragging him down the street.

"You're going to help a traitor?" the soldier asked dubiously.

Uki smiled. "Our brother has a soft spot for your kind," she answered, "he would never forgive us if we _didn't_ help you."

"So," Outa started, breathing more heavily now that he was partially carrying another man, "why did you leave?"

"I was betrayed," the soldier answered emotionlessly.

"Oh."

The brother and sister both watched the mysterious man somewhat warily out of the corners of their eyes. He was obviously spent, and had probably been on the run for a week at the very least. His once crisp blue uniform was wrinkled and brown, the shiny brass buttons stained with dirt. Then Outa's eyes caught sight of the weapon at his side. It wasn't the characteristic rifle and bayonet combination, but a sword.

"Where are you headed?"

The soldier shrugged. "Wherever you're taking me."

Outa smiled. "So, what's your name?"

"Himura, Himura Kenji. You?"

"Higashidani Outa, and this is my sister . . . Uki."

* * *

"Finally awake again?" a feminine voice with just a hint of condescension asked. Kenji forced his heavy eyelids open, and a small smile touched his lips as his blurry vision cleared to reveal the woman that had spotted him, kneeling beside his prostrate body. Her dark hair was cut short before reaching her chin, and its childish bounce undoubtedly removed several years from her face. Her eyes were lighter than her younger brother's, unnaturally ethereal, yet powerful, in appearance. Kenji felt as if one angry glance from her might render even Aoshi defenseless.

Now what was her name again?

"Uki?" he questioned slowly, testing his memory, "what happened?"

"You passed out on the way here," she stated simply.

"Where's your brother?"

"Outa?" she questioned, brightening. Instead of answering verbally, she just motioned to the side with her head, out the open door.

Kenji pushed himself up on one elbow, squinting into the high sun. His eyes widened, and Uki answered his rising question before it could completely form on his tongue.

"No, we're not in Beijing anymore, and you're lucky we found you before we left . . . being a runaway soldier, and all."

"Then where are we?"

Uki's smile faded. "Can't you tell? This village has become a haven for refugees."

She was right. It _was_ rather obvious. The street, or what Kenji could see of it, was lined with uncountable buildings. Most of them were homes, and the majority appeared to be haphazardly made, just sufficient enough to keep the rain out. A few of the surrounding people appeared foreign, but many were also native, most likely sympathizers or just innocent bystanders that had fled Beijing in fear during the Boxers' siege on the city. The villagers' clothes were in many cases tattered and worn, their children's faces smudged with dirt. And yet, Kenji quickly noted that every one of the children and many of their parents were smiling, their eyes bright and alive, as if they were the luckiest people in the world. And suddenly he came to realize just how much this little haven really meant to them.

Outa was a few feet away, playing with a small group of children. Kenji noticed, not without significant surprise, that Outa had unconsciously and easily shifted into Chinese. The words slipped off of his tongue with just as much ease as Japanese, and Kenji curiously raised a red eyebrow.

"What were you two doing here?"

"We've lived here for awhile, since the beginning of the Boxers. We're foreigners too, after all."

"But why are you in China, and not Japan?"

"We moved here with our older brother several years ago. Our parents had passed away, so we just came here with him. It was a sort of an adventure for us, I guess."

"Then what were you doing in Beijing when you found me?"

Uki seemed more reluctant to answer that question, but Outa apparently saw no harm in sharing information with the stranger.

"Springing our brother from jail," he answered bluntly, without moving his eyes from the game he was preoccupied with.

Kenji felt a new presence behind him before a word was uttered or a footstep fell. Both Uki and Outa's eyes had lit up, and then the newcomer spoke.

"I heard you talking about me again," a deep, jocular voice said. Kenji turned, and saw the man he instantly assumed to be their elder brother.

The man was tall, and his lean but muscular body was leaning lazily against the nearest wall. His brown hair was long, falling just past his shoulders, but a red bandana around his forehead tied back some of the unruly locks. His face was dark with stubble, accentuating the ruggedness of his features. He was certainly more ragged and unkempt than his brother or sister.

The bright sun glowed against his face, which was decorated with a crooked smile, and illuminated his eyes, as sharp and piercing as a hawk's. Despite the man's laid-back nature, Kenji saw in the brown orbs the experience and battles of decades, and stories that would probably send shivers down even his own spine. He had obviously been living such a life for several years now, and had adapted to it well. Kenji easily recognized his Japanese descent, however, and judging by his looks concluded that he had probably been alive since sometime during the revolution.

Kenji sat up fully as the man shifted his gaze to the ex-soldier in interest.

"Finally awake, huh?"

But almost instantly afterward his hard brown eyes widened in shock, his face paling drastically, as if he was seeing some kind of re-manifested memory in the form of an apparition. The fishbone between his lips plummeted to the ground. And Kenji found himself involuntarily leaning away from him, for an unexplainable reason suddenly feeling as if he was once again being compared to his father.

"You never told me his eyes were blue . . ." the man whispered, almost to himself. Then, "could you take off your helmet?"

Kenji complied with a shrug, slipping the kepi from his head and revealing a sea of red tresses. The man's eyes grew even larger.

"Is there something wrong?" Uki asked apprehensively, glancing back and forth between the two men. Immediately her brother regained composure, realizing how oddly he had reacted. He shook his head twice, breaking into a shaky smile.

"No," he murmured, scratching his head with one hand in embarrassment. "I apologize. You, you just look a lot like someone I used to know."

Kenji sighed. He had been right. This man had fought in the Bakumatsu.

The man seated himself beside Kenji and extended a hand. Kenji took it, noticing that despite its sweatiness, the handshake was powerful and confident. The man fixed his eyes on the scene outside, the uncertainty from a moment before completely absent.

"What's your name?"

"Himura Kenji."

And his eyes flashed back to their surprised confusion. Kenji smiled slightly. The man's expressions changed almost as quickly as his mother's moods.

"Himura?" he asked in quiet disbelief. "As in, Himura Kenshin?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes. He was my father."

Uki and Outa looked on in silent confusion as their brother's eyes glassed over. "Your mother, her name was Kamiya Kaoru, right?"

Kenji nodded, and the man laughed heartily.

"That idiot never told me he married Jou-chan. And a son at that!" He sighed with a smile. "I can't believe they finally went through with it."

Kenji arched an eyebrow. "Who _are_ you?"

The man looked up in surprise, then smirked. "Oh, I've been known by lots of names, most of them unpleasant."

Uki muffled a chuckle from where she sat.

"Well?"

"Just call me Sanosuke. Sagara Sanosuke."


	12. Bitter Truth

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 12: Bitter Truth**

Outa grunted as he lifted the smooth log in front of him and beads of sweat began to appear on his reddened face. He gasped in surprise as the load suddenly became lighter, and glanced to his side. He grinned. It was Kenji, lifting the other half of the log with ease and helping Outa to push it into position. Outa chuckled as the ex-soldier jogged a few feet away to help a little boy retrieve a bucket of water from the town's single well.

Kenji had adapted to life in the refugee village with unbelievable alacrity. He was something of a marvel to the inhabitants. The children were constantly surrounding him, mostly to tug at his rare red hair or admire his clear blue eyes. The men had grown to respect and rely on his strength and skills to build and protect the village, and the women came to adore his willingness to assist them in their own tasks when their husbands stubbornly refused. The young warrior had even gained several young female admirers, who never failed to praise and cheer him during his "private" practice sessions with the sakabatou.

For the first few months, he had patiently endured the chuckles from Sanosuke and Outa when a blushing young woman whispered something he didn't understand to one of her friends while staring at him, or when his fellows workers mocked him when he hit his thumb with a hammer in their native language of Chinese. By now, however, he had gained a basic understanding of the language, and found communication with the villagers easier every day.

He had volunteered without complaint to help improve the conditions in the village, whether that meant building sturdy houses for the new arrivals, digging a well, chopping down trees, or even staying up all night to keep watch (paranoia about both Boxer and soldier still ran rampant among most). Anyone that had known him in adolescence would quickly acknowledge that he had significantly matured, and he reminded Sano more and more of Kenshin by the day.

The Japanese Imperial Army uniform was packed away in a small home that had become Kenji's own, replaced with what the Chinese called a "shen-i." His new garb consisted of a navy blue tunic falling all the way to his knees and sewn to a pair of loose black trousers. He had to admit, he highly preferred the open and comfortable Chinese clothing to his old uniform.

And after several weeks living here, he had finally learned the whole truth about Sanosuke, Uki, and Outa: their presence in China, their differing last names, and Sano's connection with his parents.. Supposedly, when Sanosuke he fled the country in fear for his life after rebelling against a corrupt government official, Outa and Uki had been only children. Several years later, around the time when Kenshin and Kaoru had died, he had returned to his homeland, expecting it to be safe. He had quickly learned, however, that he was still a very wanted man, but just before leaving had been convinced by his younger brother and sister to allow them to come along. Outa and Uki, who was about ten years older than her youngest brother, had followed him back to the main continent. They had ended up in China by chance when the war started, and after being caught up in the mess in Beijing, decided to assist their former neighbors and now refugees in rebuilding their lives elsewhere. A group of them had started this village, which had become a safe escape for victims all over the country.

And Sanosuke's surname, Sagara, _that_ had come from his years in the Seikihoutai, during the revolution. Kenji found himself reliving part of his childhood as he reheard stories about the infamous Zanza that Yahiko had shared with him on stormy nights all those years ago.

"Kenji!"

Kenji handed the little boy the full bucket of water and turned to the source of the voice, smiling as he saw Uki running toward him and waving. Her short black hair bounced around her ears as she came to a stop. She was in her mid-thirties now, but still acted and looked like a little girl. She was like Misao in a way, only less conniving.

"What is it, Uki?"

"Sanosuke wants to know if you'll take guard duty tonight."

"Sure," Kenji replied without hesitation, though he groaned mentally. He had been up most of the previous night as well, helping a family finish their roof as fast as possible as a rainstorm brewed. Uki smiled gratefully and turned, yelling her thanks over her shoulder as she jogged away.

Kenji smiled to himself. Life here was so peaceful, so perfect. He envied her and her brothers for having it for so long. It was so easy to stay here, to run away from everything that had caused him pain before. He couldn't see a reason to leave. He could stay here, find a sweet Chinese girl and settle down. He chuckled to himself, realizing how foreign thoughts like those would have been just a few years ago. His life had changed drastically. He doubted that things would ever return to the way they had once been for him. The choices he had made had been too life-changing for that.

* * *

"Still awake?"

Kenji glanced down at the ground to where Sanosuke stood. He was currently sitting atop the wooden protective barrier surrounding the village in the dark, and apparently Sano had come to keep him company.

Sanosuke quickly climbed the ladder Kenji had used and planted himself next to Kenji, holding a lantern in his lap. They sat in silence for several moments, each gazing quietly at the towering trees while making sure to remain on guard.

"Kenji?"

"Yes, Sagara-san?" At that Sanosuke chuckled out loud.

"For the last time Kenji, don't call me that! It's not right for the son of Kaoru and Kenshin to address a lowly fighter-for-hire like me so formally. If anything, I should be the one calling you that." Kenji just smiled and shook his head, used to these protests by now.

"All right, Sanosuke. What is it?"

Sano's joking smile disappeared, and Kenji noticed as he stared into the lantern that a melancholy expression was taking over his face, perhaps the first one he had seen on him.

"Kenji," he started, "this might sound strange, but . . . how are things, how is everyone, back in Japan?"

"I haven't been there for years, Sanosuke."

"I know," he replied in agitation, "but it's been even longer since I was there. And the last time I was there, the only ones I saw were Outa and Uki, who are here now anyway. How is everyone else?"

"You miss it."

"No," Sanosuke quickly protested. "I don't miss relying either on my brutishness, the sympathy of others, or gambling to get by. I wouldn't want to go back to that."

"But you miss everybody, don't you?"

There was a short pause.

"Yes."

"So, what do you want to know?"

Sanosuke looked up at the vast expanse of stars. "Well, what was everyone up to when you left? What's happened in the years I've been gone? You know, anything."

Kenji sighed, starting with the basics.

"You knew Myoujin Yahiko, right?"

Sano smirked. "Of course."

"Well, he's married."

Kenji thought Sanosuke was going to fall off the wall. "What! To whom?"

"Tsubame."

Sanosuke paused for a moment, then slapped his leg and began to laugh heartily. "Ah, I always knew those two would hit it off. How's Tsubame?"

"Well, she owns the Akabeko now, and Yahiko is the new master of the Kamiya Kasshin."

"The little brat's got his own style now. Who would have guessed? Are they happy?"

"Yes. Oh, and they have a kid."

This time Sanosuke did fall off the wall, or at least would have if Kenji hadn't grabbed him by the shoulder and steadied him. He stared blankly ahead for a few moments, then began to shake his head in awed disbelief. "He was just a kid when I left. A kid? I can't believe it . . ."

He smiled wryly and sighed, suddenly looking and probably feeling a lot older than he had in a long time.

"What about your mother?"

Kenji stopped cold, his grip on the wall tightening as he realized that Sanosuke didn't know. He turned his head slowly to look vacantly at the former fighter for hire.

His voice was low and hollow.

"She died ten years ago, Sano."

The pain he saw instantly form on the man's face made him want to jump off the wall right then. Sanosuke had looked up and was staring at him, his eyes wide in an emotion he had never related with the man. Fear.

"Ten years?" he whispered. "Have I been gone that long?"

"Much longer."

Sanosuke shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "I can't believe she's . . . gone. Jou-chan's really gone. Ten years—then I guess your father—"

"Dead."

Sano nodded absently. "I thought so. I'm the one that found him and sent him back to Japan. And unfortunately, judging by his condition, it really wasn't that hard to tell that he didn't have that much time left."

Both fell into silence, Sano milling through his sorrow and Kenji revisiting feelings of bitterness he hadn't felt since abandoning the army.

Then Sanosuke, seeking to move past the subject, proposed another quiet question. "What about the girls, Ayame and Suzume?"

"Oh, Suzume-san got married a while ago and moved to Sapporo."

"That little pig-tailed girl? Married?" Kenji refrained from answering and just shrugged, unable to picture the sophisticated woman as a little girl.

"And Ayame?"

"She's never gotten married, but she's happy. She's working at the clinic in Tokyo."

The mention of the clinic led perfectly to the next topic, an unavoidable one in Sanosuke's mind.

"Is Megumi still around?"

"Oh, I remember Megumi. I hadn't seen her in awhile when I left. She lives in Aizu now."

"Is she . . ." Sano get himself off, blushing slightly.

"What?"

"Well, is she . . . married, or anything?"

"No."

"Oh." Kenji thought he sensed a degree of relief in the word. Suddenly he realized the implication of Sanosuke's tone, and realized that his next words would probably bring a great deal of suffering to the man. He glanced guiltily at his comrade.

"There's something else you should know, though."

"Oh?"

"She . . . has a daughter."

Sure enough, Sanosuke stiffened, his eyes fixing intently on the lantern's flame.

"Who is he?"

Kenji shrugged in response. "She said he passed away. I never knew him"

"How old is the girl?" he asked, his voice and eyes suddenly dull.

"She's about my age—around twenty-one."

"What's she like?"

"I don't really know. I've only met her once, and we were just kids."

"Her name?"

"Sanosuke," Kenji gently scolded, "she's across the ocean. It doesn't really matter."

Sano nodded and smiled somewhat desperately. "Is Megumi happy?"

Kenji sighed. "I don't know. I rarely see her."

"Kenji," he repeated, "is Megumi happy?"

Kenji shook his head. "I imagine so."

"Good." Sanosuke leaned his head back to stare at the sky, sighing. "Things sure have changed since those days. I'd give anything to be back at the dojo, just with Kenshin and Kaoru, and Yahiko, Megumi, Genzai, and the girls. Things were fun back then, so different from now."

"I wish I could just imagine times like that," Kenji muttered, "imagine my father being the kind of man you describe him to be."

"What do you mean?"

"He was never around, Sanosuke. I hardly knew him, and his absence constantly hurt my mother." His eyes narrowed. "I'll always hate him for it."

Sanosuke's eyes widened. "I'm sure it wasn't his fault, Kenji. He really was a good man. If not for him, none of us would have ever even met."

Kenji shook his head, then turned and slipped off the wall back into the boundaries of the village. He was aware of the fact that Sanosuke had come to relieve him of his duties, and meandered bitterly to his home, trying to shake out the end of the conversation just held between the two of them. He didn't want to remember _him._

Sanosuke watched him go sadly. It was a shame that Kenji had never been able to truly get to know his real father. Sano pitied any person that didn't have Kenshin's influence in their life. He turned back to his flickering lantern, releasing a heavy and weary sigh and closing his eyes.

"He sure is your son, Kenshin. There's not mistaking it. I thought I was hallucinating the fist time I saw him, because there's no other source for hair like that. He's got Jou-chan's eyes though, not to mention her stubbornness."

He reopened his eyes and looked back at the ebony sky. "I hope you two are happy, wherever you are. I still can't believe that the life we once shared has changed so much. Things will never be the same with you two gone."

Sanosuke yawned widely and rubbed one eye, then blew out his lantern to more effectively and secretly observe the surrounding landscape. And after just a few minutes, he found his thoughts inevitably falling to a certain fox and her mysterious daughter.

* * *

No, Megumi didn't have a daughter in Seisouhen or anything that you missed. Don't worry, all will be explained. Oh yeah, and some reviews would be nice.

Next Chapter: **Prisoner**

Kenji's sweating hand twitched next to the hilt of his sword as he caught sight of the army. Luckily he had had the foresight to bring the weapon. It would be needed if he was spotted.

He swore under his breath and crouched down lower as he picked out Sanosuke amid the mass of blue. He was towering over the other soldiers, his hands tied, trudging slowly along with the column.

"That idiot."


	13. Prisoner

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 13: Prisoner**

Sanosuke yawned widely and rubbed absent-mindedly at his heavy eyes as consciousness once again began to grab hold of him. The sun was barely rising, filtering through the leaves of the trees overhead with a thousand separate golden beams. High-pitched notes from a variety of birds permeated the air. Uki and Outa probably would have found the scene beautiful and picturesque, Sano just thought being woken up this early was annoying.

He found himself grumbling as he realized he was still atop the wall surrounding the village. He had fallen asleep on duty. He easily shrugged the mistake off, however, and turned his eyes to observe the horizon as they adjusted to the new light. At first everything seemed normal. Nothing out of the ordinary was visible in the vast expanse, and he almost slipped backwards off the wall to return home, but at the last moment, his eyes caught an odd and out-of-place blur of blue.

He squinted, then jumped from his post to get a closer look. It didn't take him long to get near enough to recognize the muddled color. His blood ran chill at what he saw.

His fears had been affirmed. The muffled noise of hundreds of murmuring voices invaded his ears, all speaking in a language he understood clearly. Just a number of yards away, and slowly trekking toward him and the village, was a large section of the Japanese Imperial Army.

His first reaction was to think of Kenji. As a runaway soldier, this certainly jeopardized his safety. Or were they after _him_? Or perhaps Beijing hadn't been enough for their avarice, and they were here to seize even more wealth that didn't belong to them. Sanosuke took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. The army was headed at such an angle that they would probably pass the village, and their were enough trees that they likely wouldn't even see it. With any luck, they wouldn't change course, and Kenji and the others would be safe from discovery.In his self-reassurances, Sanosuke forgot to keep his guard up. When he looked back up to observe the army, he noticed more than one staring straight at him. He ducked behind a tree and turned to run, but stopped dead in his tracks.

"Commander! To the left!"

Sanosuke slowly turned back around, and saw several of the men at the front of the column, the most prominent of which were on horses, squinting in his direction and raising their hands to shadow their eyes. And although he didn't hear the command, Sanosuke knew that several of the soldiers had been ordered to retrieve him, as they were now advancing hastily toward him.

Sano sighed as they grew closer, seeing any attempt at resistance as futile. They would probably just shoot him down if he tried to run, and even if they didn't, it was likely that they would follow him straight to the town he was supposed to be protecting. Perhaps he could come up with an elaborate story and convince them that he was just a passing traveler or something.

He just stood there as the soldiers reached him, smirking as their eyes widened upon beholding his vast height. But they weren't deterred, and he soon found himself being roughly escorted to the mounted man at the very front of the company.

Apparently the commander didn't recognize Sano's nationality be appearance only, for as Sanosuke came within a few feet of him he muttered derogatorily toward him, unaware of the fact that Sano understood every word.

Sano smiled in reply. "It's nice to meet you too," he said with a touch of sarcasm, taking delight in the commander's flustered look. Deciding to at least attempt a good first impression, he extended his right hand up toward the man, nodding as a pristine white glove was slipped into his own in a rather feeble shake. He tried not to acknowledge the way the man unconsciously wiped his glove on his pant leg after withdrawing his hand.

"Sir," he started, trying to sound as humble as he could manage (though out of habit he mostly failed), "I didn't mean to disturb your troops here," he jerked his head toward the body of men, "I was only—"

And he was off, into some convoluted and fabricated tale, animatedly waving his arms to illustrate his points. He didn't really know what he was saying anymore after awhile, only that the closest soldiers were eyeing him strangely, as if he was mad.

The commander watched him patiently and appraisingly the whole time, although Sanosuke's words seemed to flow right past him with no effect.

"You're Japanese, aren't you?"

Sano successfully bit off the sarcastic remark that arose to his mouth out of instinct after such a stupid question, but didn't manage to hide the amused grin. The commander frowned as he answered.

"Yes, sir," he said, with perhaps too much gusto.

"What's your name?" he questioned curiously.

Sanosuke gulped, but didn't refuse answering. Later, however, he wondered what in the world had possessed him to start telling the truth at that point.

"Sagara Sanosuke."

"Sagara? Sagara . . ." The commander contemplated for a few moments, searching his brain for a face, a story, anything to match with that oddly familiar name. Then it hit him.

"Sagara, of course!" He grinned wickedly, turning his black eyes on the confused Sanosuke. "You're that traitor, aren't you? The one that the government has been looking for for over twenty years." His voice held a touch of awed surprise and joy as he watched his future prisoner. Sanosuke's eyes widened, and he reflexively backed up a step. He hadn't expected to be recognized here, especially after this long.

"Men," the now elated commander said, his eyes narrowing maliciously on helpless Sano, "arrest him."

* * *

"Time to get up . . . Kenji lazily drawled, poking Uki in the side with his toe. The middle-aged woman ignored him, rolling away from him and running a limp hand through her disheveled black hair.

"Go away . . ."

Kenji smiled. "But the sun's been up for hours, Uki. What were you doing last night?" She turned to glare at him with sharp eyes, then finally sat up and stretched.

"What do you want, idiot?"

Kenji crouched next to her and replied cheerfully, "I'm ever so sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you know where Outa and Sanosuke are."

"Outa's getting some food. The last time I saw Sano was when he was going to relieve you of your duties last night."

"You mean he hasn't come back yet?"

"Why does it matter? When should he have come back?"

"Two hours ago."

Uki dropped her hand from where it had been rubbing at her sleepy eyes into her lap. "That long?"

Kenji nodded in the affirmative, sighing. "You think I should go after him?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's fine," Uki quickly said, trying to assure both him and herself that there was a reasonable explanation. Then her bright smile faded slightly as she thought of her older brother. "Maybe you should."

Kenji patted her on the shoulder in reassurance and smiled, rising. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Kenji's sweating hand twitched next to the hilt of his sword as he caught sight of the army. Luckily he had had the foresight to bring the weapon. It would be needed if he was spotted.

He swore under his breath and crouched down lower as he picked out Sanosuke amid the mass of blue. He was towering over the other soldiers, his hands tied, trudging slowly along with the column.

"That idiot."

He watched hundreds and hundreds of men march by for a few moments before an idea hit him. His pursed lips turned upward in a clever smile, and he darted back toward the forest, sprinting swiftly and silently and suddenly feeling grateful for Hiko's training for the first time in years.

He covered the distance home in record time, and didn't even pause to ask for the gates to be opened when he reached the high wooden walls of the village. Instead he just jumped as high as he could and pulled himself up and over the wall with nothing but his bare hands and feet, slipping silently to the ground on the other side.

Several of the villagers turned to greet him with a smile, watching in slight surprise as he darted past them with no sign of acknowledgment. His chest was heaving by the time he reached the Higashidani home.

"Uki! Outa!"

Uki immediately appeared in the doorway, a sheathed knife clutched between her white fingers. Kenji slowed to a halt in front of her, glancing apprehensively at the weapon.

"I was worried," she quickly explained, noticing the expression on his face. "Where's Sano?"

"He's not here," Kenji answered ambiguously, pushing past her into the house in search of her younger brother. "Where's Outa?"

When she failed to respond, Kenji whirled back around.

"Uki, don't play around! Where's—"

He stopped.

Uki's dark eyes were fixed on him in a steely glare, but shimmering with tears at the same time.

"Kenji, tell me where Sanosuke is."

Kenji sighed heavily. He had hoped to avoid this. He knew Uki would overreact.

"He's been captured by the Japanese army, Uki."

Surprisingly, Uki just nodded, dropping her head and biting her lip. Kenji thought he saw a few salty tear drops fall down her face, but his thoughts were interrupted when Outa burst through the door.

"Kenji! What happened?" he got out, immediately seeing the condition of his sister.

"Outa, the Japanese have your brother."

"What?"

"The Japanese army has captured Sanosuke," Kenji repeated patiently, waiting for it to sink in for them both.

Outa ran an agitated hand through his black hair. "What are we going to do?"

"Let me go after him."

"Kenji, you're a runaway soldier. Are you stupid?"

"Oh, then are you going to rescue him, Uki?" Kenji replied scathingly.

"Just let me go," Outa proposed.

"No. I'm not going to let my little brother risk that."

"You know Uki, I'm not a little kid anymore."

"I don't care. You're not going, and that's final."

"So you're willing to let Kenji risk his life, but not me?"

"No, Kenji's not going either—"

"Then what are we going to do, Uki?" Kenji demanded, "just sit here and hope Sanosuke finds some miraculous opportunity to escape?"

"I . . . I don't know—"

Kenji sighed in disgust. "Well, while you're sitting here trying to decide what to do, I'm going to go rescue your brother."

"But Kenji—"

"Uki." She stopped, watching Kenji silently as he turned around. Both eyebrows raised.

He was smiling weakly at her, but his usually bright and cheerful glow was gone, replaced by a haggard and exhausted attempt to appear positive. Then she glanced down, and her heart skipped a beat. For the first time she realized that his sword was fastened securely at his side.

She looked back up at him, concern etched in her features. "Do you promise everything's going to be okay?"

"Yes," Kenji said, relieved that she was relenting, "everything will be fine. I swear. Now I just need one more little favor."

"What's that?"

"We need to wash my uniform. Fast."

* * *

Uki clutched Kenji's shen-i tightly between her pale fingers as Outa placed an arm around her shoulders and the two watched Kenji disappear down the street, clothed in his now crisp blue uniform. She frowned. He had become like another brother to her in the time he had spent here, and thinking about what could happen to him on this mission nearly made her sick. But the fact remained: he was the only hope for her true brother.

* * *

Author's note: I don't really know why this story has suddenly become wildly unpopular. If you just don't like this little side-adventure, don't worry, Kenji and Chizuru will be reunited soon. Anyway, some feedback would be fabulous. Next Chapter: Rescue 


	14. Rescue

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 14: Rescue**

Kenji held his breath as the Japanese camp came into sight. They had held off their journey for the night, and canvas tents and blazing fires dotted a vast expanse of the horizon. But they were headed back to Beijing, and it wouldn't take them the entirety of a day to reach the capital city. Kenji had to get Sanosuke out _tonight_; if he didn't, his cause would be hopeless. Security in the prisons in Beijing would be too great for even Kenji to infiltrate.

Night had fallen, and getting into the camp would be easy enough. It was fitting in and finding Sano that would prove to be a struggle. He absolutely couldn't be discovered. It wasn't that he couldn't handle himself, but if he caused a scene rescuing Sanosuke would become virtually inconceivable.

He unconsciously ducked his head to hide his face as he entered, checking one more time with his hand to assure himself that all of his distinctive hair was tucked safely up into his cap, invisible to the soldiers. He soon realized, however, that he needn't be so cautious. Just the uniform gave him access to nearly any part of the camp.

Line after line of identical tents met his stressed gaze. He couldn't directly ask where Sano was being held; he had to remain inconspicuous. So instead he found himself wandering hopelessly down the rows, searching for a dark tent being guarded and sighing and wiping the sweat from his forehead with each soldier he successfully fooled.

"What are _you_ up to?" Kenji stopped dead, clenching his fists at his side. He turned around slowly, gulping.

The soldier that had questioned him was older, the hair at his temples a hoary color and his wrinkle-surrounded eyes much wiser than those of his comrades. Kenji knew from glancing at his decorated uniform that this man was of a much higher rank than he had ever personally been while part of the army. Kenji loosened his collar, ready to sprint at a second's notice.

"Well?" the man asked again, in an almost fatherly tone, "where are you headed?"

Kenji swallowed hard and opened his mouth with a lie, but his tongue paused as his eyes caught a ring of keys hanging from the other soldier's side.

"Where is the prisoner we apprehended today being held?" he asked bluntly.

Two gray eyebrows raised high on the officer's forehead. "Just down this row, why?"

Kenji smiled and apologized, and in one swift move the man was unconscious on the ground. Kenji pulled his body into a nearby empty tent, then set off in the direction mentioned, a ring of keys resting comfortably in his pocket.

Kenji slit open the back side of tent after tent on the specified row in his search. Fortunately, most of these tents were used for nothing but supplies, and the only soldiers he had to concern himself were taking breaks that were most likely unauthorized, gathered at a tent a safe distance away but still within sight of the front entrance of all the others.

Listening in on these guards' conversation had made him realize just how pressed for time he truly was. Sanosuke was the talk of the camp, and it had recently been ordered that he be delivered to the general's tent immediately. Kenji knew he had to hurry before the soldier sent to do the job showed up. Sano's punishment would be gruesome, if anything the soldiers said was true.

He heard a groan from nearby and skipped to slitting that tent's wall. The unusually tall man inside began to mutter in angry Japanese as the light fell on his eyes, and Kenji smiled, suddenly wondering how his mother had reacted when the rooster-head had used language like that around her.

"Had a bad day, Sanosuke?"

Sano's frustrated cursing suddenly broke off, and he lifted his head to look at the man towering over him with a smug grin.

"Kenji?" Kenji chuckled, crouching down and fumbling through the keys on the ring in search of one that would free Sanosuke from his shackles.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Kenji glanced doubtfully at his friend. "What do you think? I'm breaking you out. You should be used to it by now, if what Uki and Outa say is true."

"Kenji, you're wanted by the army. What if they catch you?"

Kenji chuckled. "No one recognized me. My regiment isn't here."

The prisoner shook his head but smiled, unable to believe his younger friend's rashness.

"You're going to get us both killed."

"Shut up, Sano." Sanosuke almost started laughing, but abstained when he saw Kenji's expression. His jocular attitude had been replaced by a stern and austere face, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pulled into a thin line.

"Kenji, what is it?" Sanosuke whispered in uneasy curiosity. But he didn't require an answer. Almost as soon as the words had passed from his lips another voice erupted from outside, this one yelling in aggravation. The steady beating of running feet caught Sano's ears, a noise he had missed before. Kenji was working faster than ever, his fingers shaking as he tried key after key to no avail.

"What's going on?"

"They know I'm here."

"How?

Kenji groaned as another key proved useless. "I don't know. It was only a matter of time before they figured it out. They probably found the officer I got these keys from."

"You said not to worry," Sano scolded sternly.

Kenji ignored him, shoving in another key as a small group of soldiers he couldn't see but heard headed toward them.

"Kenji, you've got to get out of here!"

"No," Kenji replied as calmly as the situation would allow, discounting the uniformed men sprinting toward them, "I'm getting you out first."

"RUN, YOU IDIOT!"

Kenji licked his lips, then smiled in satisfaction as the shackles finally fell from Sanosuke's hands. The two stood, Sanosuke involuntarily rubbing his sore wrists as they turned to escape through the slit Kenji had made.

But both stopped dead. A group of soldiers was only feet from them now, and both turned toward the tent's front flap. Sanosuke burst through it at uncanny speed and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, laughing to himself at their narrow escape.

"Next time I tell you to run, _do_ it, all right?" he muttered in half-seriousness. He turned his head over his shoulder to observe the expression of Kenji, and his rapid footsteps stopped short.

Kenji was several yards behind him, still in the remains of Sano's canvas prison. Several of the soldiers were to him now, quickly restraining the struggling imposter. His cap had somehow been knocked from his head, and his flaming red hair stuck out distinctly among the growing mass of black and blue.

"RUN!"

Kenji's one word brought Sanosuke back to reality, and he saw that several men were still pursuing _him_. Quickly he turned, sprinting past surprised Japanese soldiers and dodging gunfire until he had reached the edge of the camp and dissipated into the darkness.

Kenji watched him go with a wry smile, and easily succumbed to the men attempting to chain him.

"So long, Sano," he murmured.

* * *

Sanosuke swore under his breath, punching a tree he passed hard enough to leave a mark. He ran his hand through his disheveled hair and groaned, the picture of Kenji being overtaken by the soldiers never fading from his thoughts. 

He was such an idiot. What had possessed him to risk so much for Sano's sake? He was still young, he still had a life to live, and now he had been condemned to live it as a prisoner. Or perhaps his life wouldn't even last that much longer. He _was_ a traitor.

Sano looked down at his calloused and dirt-stained hand. He wasn't who he used to be. His fists didn't pack as much punch, his muscles had thinned and his joints were getting harder to move. He couldn't handle all of those soldiers, and there was no one else to help him rescue Kenji. Besides, he hadn't exactly been handled with care by the Japanese soldiers, and he wasn't in the best shape. He sighed heavily. It was times like these that he really missed Kenshin.

His footsteps slowed as the high village gate came into view. He stared at it forlornly for a few moments, playing out the coming scene in his head. It wasn't going to be a pleasant sight.

Stalling no longer, he took the last few steps to the gate and knocked as strongly as he could manage in his current state of mind. Someone from the other side heard him, and soon the massive gate had been cracked open.

"Sanosuke!"

Before he could react he had been swarmed by the villagers. They were chattering like excited children. But the Chinese words floated right past him as he spotted his younger sister pushing through the throng, Outa right on her tail.

He saw that tears were streaming from her dark eyes as she reached him. He gasped as she hugged him tightly around the waist, responding with a melancholy smile and fatherly pat on the back.

"Sano, I'm so glad you're all right!" she exclaimed, squeezing tighter. Then she pulled back, looking up into his face and smirking. "You're a mess."

"Yeah . . ." he responded half-heartedly. Outa frowned at the distant and only half-cognizant look in his brother's eyes. He drew him aside, then spoke in a low and serious voice, Uki observing his concern with exasperation.

"Sanosuke, where's Kenji?"

Sanosuke just kept staring at the ground, a tear glistening in his eye.

"Outa, I think we need to go home."

* * *

Uki covered her face with both hands, tears steadily leaking from both eyes and dripping to the rough wood floor she was kneeling on. She shook her head in stubborn disbelief, burying her head in Outa's shoulder as he extended an arm to comfort her. 

Outa glanced from her back to his elder brother, sighing heavily. Sanosuke hardly looked alive anymore. As he had explained the situation to his two siblings, he had actually choked up, for the first time in Outa or Uki's memory. His face was pale and lifeless, with dark lines under his eyes. The brown orbs themselves were bleary and bloodshot, staring, once again, at the floor. He looked worse than he ever had before, and Outa knew it wasn't a result of any kind of trauma he himself had experienced. It was completely resultant of the undying guilt he felt about allowing Kenji to be captured.

"Sanosuke."

The anxious man looked up at Outa, who was for once wearing a dark and disapproving frown, an expression rarely seen to pass across his face.

"Sanosuke, this isn't your fault. You can't beat yourself up about this. There was nothing you could do for Kenji."

"But I just ran—"

"You acted out of instinct, Sanosuke.You can't be blamed for that."

"But—"

"Stop it Sanosuke. Blaming yourself won't help Kenji."

Sanosuke growled with animal-like ferocity and punched the nearest wall, shaking the entire house. "What was that idiot thinking? What's the point of rescuing me if he was just going to let himself get caught?" He swore violently, causing Uki to shudder. "Sometimes that boy is _too_ much like his father. Self-sacrificing maniacs."

Uki looked up from Outa's soldier, wiping stubbornly at her eyes with her sleeve. She stood and walked quickly across the room to Sanosuke, hugging him tightly around the neck.

"It's all right, Sanosuke. Kenji will make it."

Sanosuke smiled at her in feigned agreement, then glanced over her shoulder at Outa, who was staring at him with traces of tears in his eyes.

_Oh Uki, what have I done? I'm the oldest, I was supposed to protect all of you, even Kenji. I was supposed to be there for you. And now . . ._

_

* * *

_Kenji raised a scornful eyebrow at the bowl of "soup" that had just been handed to him— 

which more closely resembled his dirty laundry. He glanced at the soldier holding it.

"Are you serious?"

"Just be glad you're getting anything," the man muttered, shoving the meager meal into Kenji's hands and storming off. Kenji sniffed the elixir apprehensively, then shrugged and decided to push comfort aside, hastily draining the contents of the bowl and barely abstaining from gagging.

When he had finished choking down the putrid excuse for nourishment, he tossed the bowl to his side, where it rolled to a stop just before reaching the iron bars that withheld him. He glanced at the black poles and sighed. They had smothered his last hope of escape.

The army that had captured him had reached Beijing the day after his arrest, as he had predicted. Now he was in a secure prison, still surrounded by guards, although their necessity was questionable. From the various bits of conversations he had picked up from listening to them while pretending to be asleep, he had ascertained that he would be held here until the next ship from Japan arrived. Then he would be transported to Tianjin, the nearest port, from which he would be shipped back to Japan to face even more imprisonment and a likely execution. Kenji sighed. Until his current situation, he hadn't thought he would ever be anxious to stay in China.

The cell was dark and damp, and at times Kenji suspected that the soldiers had purposefully chosen the worst one specifically for him. The whole set of circumstances had just brewed more ill feelings toward the government in him. While part of him dreaded that ship to Tokyo, the other half almost wanted it to end, to just escape reality, no matter what followed. Considering his usual stubbornness, Kenji had resigned quite easily to the death that awaited him, with little complaint.

* * *

Author's note: Ok, I _promise_ Chizuru is coming back soon, but this little adventure of Kenji's needs to be finished up first. Just wait a little longer. 


	15. Resolutions

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 15: Resolutions**

"He's right through here, ma'am."

"Thank you." The ornately dressed woman bowed her head slightly, lifting the edge of her kimono to follow the soldier through the dismal doorway.

She wrinkled her small nose in disgust at the stench that filled her delicate nostrils. She smirked smugly as one of the chained men leered lustily after her, winking quietly at him with one of her alluring gray eyes. Then the cool orbs scanned the rest of the cells curiously, freezing suddenly on one prisoner that stuck out with unbelievable familiarity.

"Ai-san?"

Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her escort murmur her name in question, but her eyes remained unmoving, focused on the slouching man just a few feet from her.

"Just a moment," she replied half-consciously, "I believe I once knew one of your prisoners. I'll join you in a minute."

"Are you sure? This disgusting place is hardly appropriate for one such as yourself."

"I said I'll be just a moment," she reiterated.

"Then I'll stay with you."

"No!" She turned stubborn gray eyes on him.

The soldier raised an eyebrow, watching her for a few more moments, then just shrugged to himself and bowed, turning and leaving her alone.

"Kenji?"

She crouched down next to his cell when he didn't respond. "Kenji?" she repeated.

Two icy blue eyes shifted to meet hers, glowing abnormally in the darkness. But as soon as Kenji took in the sight before him, his eyes widened in surprise, losing their previous intimidating feature.

"Ai?"

Ai grinned. "So you _do_ remember me."

Kenji frowned and turned his back to her, chains clanking against each other as he did so. "Go away, Ai."

Two dark slender eyebrows jumped upward. "But Kenji—"

"Go."

"Oh, are you upset, Kenji-kun? But you're so brave and strong, I'm sure you can get out of here—"

"Flirting won't work, Ai. I'm not as shallow as the men you usually spend time around."

Ai immediately straightened proudly. "Well excuse me, but Itagaki-san is a very respectable man!"

"You hate him, Ai," he reminded her quietly.

Ai glared at him for a few seconds before realizing that even if he could see her, it wouldn't affect him. She sighed and stood back up, absentmindedly fingering the iron bars separating the two of them.

"What happened?"

"Why do you care? It's not like you would do anything to help me."

She glanced down, taken aback by his coldness. "Kenji, I—"

"Go—_away_," he emphasized. "Go running back to Itagaki. I have nothing to offer you. As soon as the next ship gets here, I'll be shipped back to Japan for my execution."

"Execution?" she whispered.

He glanced at her over his shoulder as if she was daft. "Yes, Ai. Execution. I'm a traitor, remember?"

"But—"

"Just _go_!"

The geisha of Kenji's former commander stiffened and turned quickly on her heel, muttering to herself.

"Fine."

"How much longer?" Kenji later asked the soldier that had just delivered his meager meal. The man shrugged.

"Three days at the most."

"Three days . . ." Kenji repeated quietly, picking heartlessly at the food in front of him.

The soldier disappeared, and Kenji finished his meal in silent solitude. He looked up as the door to the prison opened again, not surprised when another soldier entered.

"Kenji?"

He looked up in surprise, his eyes narrowing as he tried to recognize the shadow across the room. The man took a few steps forward, and Kenji realized that he was smiling nervously.

"Noda?" he whispered.

"Hello, old friend," Noda replied. Kenji scowled and turned away.

"You too? You actually have the audacity to address me in that way?"

Noda sighed. "Kenji, I'm sorry. But you have to understand, there were so many expectations placed upon me, so much pressure, I couldn't just betray the government without a second thought like you could. There was a lot for me to lose."

"Why are you here?"

"To apologize, Kenji. Both Ai and I are sorry for not helping you when we could. We found out after you left what Itagaki had planned on doing. We felt terrible."

Kenji's mind jumped back to the circumstances of his initial condemnation as a traitor. In everything that had occurred since then, he had almost forgotten.

"Did you think I would betray Itagaki without a legitimate reason?"

"We didn't know, Kenji. But now we do, and we're here to make it right. Ai is the one that told me you were here. And I'm here to set you free."

Kenji bit off his retort and turned to face the young soldier.

"Set me free?"

Noda smiled. "I'm not about to see one of my best friends unjustly executed."

For the first time in weeks, Kenji genuinely smiled. Noda pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket and began to sort through them in search of the right one. He quickly found it, slipped it into the key hole, and the iron bars of Kenji's cell slowly swung open.

Kenji jumped to his feet, greeting his old friend warmly with a handshake and quick hug.

"Tell me, is Chizuru all right?"

Noda smiled. "Yes. As soon as you disappeared she arranged to return home to Japan."

Kenji released a relieved sigh. "She doesn't understand the circumstances of her brother's death yet, does she?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"No."

"How did you and Ai find out?"

Noda smiled crookedly. "We . . . overheard a conversation."

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

Both looked down the row of cells, where another soldier, previously cleaning, had appeared. Kenji groaned.

"Not again."

Both bolted for the door, closely followed by the man. Kenji pulled them both behind a stall on the street.

"Noda, run."

"What?"

"Run! He didn't see your face, you'll be fine. I'll get out of here on my own."

"But Kenji—"

"Go! Thank you, and tell Ai that I'm sorry I treated her the way I did. Now run before they find you with me!"

Noda reached into his uniform and pulled out a small pouch, tossing it to Kenji, who caught it with ease. It jingled slightly in his surprised hands.

"Take this. You'll need it."

"Noda, I . . . thank you. But now you have to run."

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"GO!" With that Kenji grabbed Noda by the shoulder and shoved him onto the street, then disappeared down an ally and away from his pursuer. Noda watched him go with a wry smile, sighing. They would likely never see each other again. But at least they had been able to make things right this last time.

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

The first thing Kenji did with the money Noda gave him was find a place to hide. He got himself new Chinese-style clothing, grateful to once again be rid of his uniform. Then he cut his hair, which over his time as a prisoner had grown to reach his shoulders. With the last bit of the money, he bought enough food and water to get him back to the village, and then was on his way.

He slept little over the next few days in which he prepared, and set out at a steady pace into the Chinese wilderness at dawn one morning, keeping his eyes peeled for a forest. He was half asleep when his dreary eyes caught the sight of something new.

The bright blue eyes drifted open slowly, taking a few seconds to focus. There it was! It had taken nearly the entire day, but his home of the past several months was in sight. He laughed harder than he had in months as he darted across the last stretch. He could already almost picture the reunion about to meet him.

The wooden gate creaked open slowly under his hand, and he came face to face with one of the older villagers, a man whose house he had once helped to build. The man gasped and fell back a step, his eyes huge with disbelief at what he saw.

"H-Himura?"

Kenji smiled and nodded, watching in amusement as the man scrambled off. He took a few steps forward, but stopped short as he realized that the village activity had practically come to a standstill. Conversations had stopped in mid-sentence, workers had paused midway through a swing of a hammer. All eyes were trained on him.

They just stood like that for several moments, the villagers staring openly at him and Kenji staring back. Then a noise resounded from behind the gaping men and women, and the Higashidani family burst through to the front.

"KENJI!"

Uki was the first to move. She sprinted across the opening between villagers and Kenji, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. When she pulled back Kenji saw that happy tears were streaming down her rosy cheeks. She grinned up at him, then buried her head in his tunic as a wave of sobs came on.

The rest of the crowd needed no further motivation. Soon Kenji was swarmed, hardly able to breathe under the onslaught of tears and hugs.

"Kenji, Kenji, Kenji, Kenji," Uki repeated through her tears, "I can't believe you're really back!"

"How did you escape?" Outa questioned, smiling up at his older brother. "Sanosuke here was ready to take on the whole Japanese Army to save you."

Kenji chuckled. "An old friend helped me out, actually. Otherwise I would have been sent back to Japan for execution."

Uki shuddered. "I'm so glad it's over. And now the villagers can finally have normal lives again."

Kenji smiled at that, glancing at Sanosuke. "Yeah. Congratulations on all your work. You guys probably saved their lives."

"We couldn't have done it without you," Sano replied. "They're going to miss you, you know."

Kenji looked up at Sanosuke blankly, eyebrows raised. "Miss me? What are you talking about? I was going to stay here and continue to help."

Sanosuke smiled and shook his head. "There are plenty to take care of that, Kenji. It won't take much even from Outa, Uki, and I. We'll stay, because we have nowhere else to go. But _you_, you have a home elsewhere. You have another life you left for this one."

"But Sanosuke, I have no family in Japan—"

"Are you trying to tell me that there's absolutely _nothing_ you left behind? Kenji, your parents might be gone, but there are many other people in Japan that I'm sure miss you and would like to know of your whereabouts. Besides, this is no place for one as young as you, with your potential. You have your whole life ahead of you. You shouldn't waste it in a place like this. Go home, Kenji. _Live_."

Kenji stared blankly at the floor, unable to believe what he was hearing. But he knew Sanosuke was right. He hadn't seen the Oniwabanshu in years, or Hiko, or Yahiko and his family. Was Hiko even still around? How big was Shinya now? Did Yahiko and Tsubame have any more kids? Did they even still live in Tokyo? And what about Megumi, and Ayame, and Suzume? What about Misao and Aoshi? He hadn't had any contact with any of them. It _was _about time that he went home.

"Sanosuke's right, Kenji," Uki whispered. "There's a better life waiting for you back there."

"But I'm a wanted man."

"Not many people even know about that. Besides, you'll be in just as much danger here, now that Japan will permanently be around," Outa argued.

Kenji sighed. "I guess you're right. I just hadn't planned on leaving."

Uki smiled and kneeled down next to him, giving him another hug. "We'll always be here if you need us. We'll miss you."

Sanosuke chuckled and punched Kenji lightly on the shoulder. "You sure are going to be breaking a lot of Chinese girls' hearts, though," he added, snickering.

Kenji just rolled his eyes.

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

"Well, I'm on my way."

Sanosuke glanced at Kenji, who had just joined him at the front gate, where he was quietly observing the scarred Chinese countryside.

"Good luck," he murmured, handing him a folded slip of parchment. Kenji took it with a questioning look on his face, but a soft smile touched his lips as the opened and read it.

"Send any letters there, and the recipient will make sure they get to me."

Kenji nodded and looked up at the ex-fighter who, by odd chance, had become one of his best friends.

"Thank you."

Sano smiled and placed a hand on Kenji's shoulder. "Yeah, whatever. Now get out of here."

Kenji grinned and nodded, then mounted the horse the villagers had provided him with and snapped the reins. He turned as he galloped off, waving at Sano and Outa, who had just appeared at his brother's side.

"Sanosuke?"

"Yes, Outa?"

"Just who is Kenji, anyway?"

Sano chuckled. "That boy, Outa, was the result of the most famous legend ever to exist among the Japanese."

"Sano?"

"He's the son of Hitokiri Battousai." Then, under his breath, "my best friend."

Ok, Kenji's finally going back to Japan, and you know what that means. So review, or you'll never read about Kenji and Chizuru again! ;)


	16. Together Again

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin isn't mine.

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 16: Together Again**

Kenji glanced up languidly with his azure eyes to observe the city he had left over five years ago. The constant bustle of the crowds was still uncomfortable to him, and he consistently felt himself involuntarily drawing back, longing for the open expanses in China he had grown so used to in the past years. Gone was the friendly and comforting familiarity, replaced by a strange and hollow emptiness. The rebellion had changed him more than he thought. For the first time, he was actually beginning to miss the bare and scarred Chinese terrain.

His bored gaze passed slowly over the multitude. Not a single familiar face among them. His lean frame rose and fell in a heavy sigh. He didn't really expect anyone to be there, anyway. No one knew he was coming back, and even if they had, they probably wouldn't have cared. After all, he hadn't even contacted anyone in Japan for half of a decade.

Heaving his small bag over his shoulder and securing the sword once again resting comfortably at his side, he stepped forward with an air of feigned confidence, re-immersing himself into Kyoto life.

He had planned on going back to Tokyo, but a tiny flicker of hope had changed his mind. Many years had passed since he was last here, and perhaps Hiko had experienced a change of heart concerning his training. Then again, did training with a sword even count for anything anymore?

What had possessed him to agree with Sanosuke and actually come back anyway?

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

He stopped to catch his breath as he reached the top of a very familiar mountain. He smiled crookedly to himself. His skills had become rusty. This climb used to be so much easier. His fingers impulsively grasped the hilt of the sakabatou as he stepped onto his former training grounds. A true smile spread across his pale face as Hiko's small home came into sight. A bright yellow light emanated from under the doorway.

Taking a deep breath, Kenji stepped up to the old familiar door and hesitantly knocked, almost fearful as ideas of Hiko's present state filled his imagination. For all he knew, Hiko might not even be living here anymore.

"Who is it?" a gruff and frustrated voice from inside asked. Kenji almost laughed. It was Hiko all right.

He carefully pushed the door open, stepping into the soft light. Hiko sat across the room, a cup of sake in his hand, looking almost exactly the same as he had ten years ago, with the exception of a few more gray hairs and barely discernable wrinkles.

He started to mutter something vulgar about being disturbed, but stopped when he finally looked up and recognized the figure before him.

"Himura?"

"Hello, Hiko-san."

Hiko chuckled to himself, dropping his gaze and shaking his head back and forth slowly.

"Well it's about time. Sit down."

"You're still not going to train me anymore, are you?" Kenji questioned quietly. The two had moved outside to the fire, and Kenji was staring up at the vast array of stars in the dark sky.

"I told you that before you even left. This time, the Hiten Mitsurugi truly ends with me. You don't need that style. It doesn't fit these times. Besides, I'm getting old, Himura. I wouldn't be of much use to you anymore, anyway."

Kenji looked at his former master in surprise. That was the first time he had heard the man admit any weakness or lacking in himself. And if Hiko admitted to it, his aging really must have dulled his abilities, even if his appearance was largely the same.

Hiko, however, didn't seem to think his words had been abnormal in any way. He continued, ignoring Kenji's look.

"I thought you would have learned how much times have changed during that rebellion."

Kenji sighed. "Yeah, I guess I did. That's what possessed me to decide to leave the army."

"You tried leaving the army?"

"Yes."

"Idiot."

Kenji shifted his eyes to the other man in surprise. "What?"

"You can't just leave a war once you've gotten yourself involved in it, Himura. _That's_ been true since even before my time."

Kenji chuckled to himself. "Yeah, I figured that out."

"So did you really run?"

"Yes. It wasn't because of discomfort with the situation, though. My commander betrayed me. That's why I abandoned my responsibilities."

Hiko took a sip of sake, and Kenji continued when he failed to respond.

"I realized I was just one of the government's dogs. I was a pawn, whose individual importance never really mattered. I couldn't get stronger in a war like that."

"I guess that's a selfish philosophy, though. But after I had left, I met up with an old friend of Tou-san's."

"And who was that?"

"Sagara Sanosuke."

Hiko's face showed no change in emotion, but he continued asking questions curiously.

"What was _he_ doing in China?"

"He and his brother and sister were helping Chinese refugees that had suffered from the rebellion." He paused, an agitated expression passing across his features. "That's why I don't understand why the Hiten Mitsurugi is useless now, Hiko-san. The Hiten Mitsurugi's ideal is to save the weak from times of suffering, and that's exactly what we did. We protected the suffering villagers from outside threats while they rebuilt their lives. We assisted the innocent. We saved the weak. And I couldn't have been as much of a help to them, or succeeded in rescuing Sanosuke from the Japanese army, if it wasn't for my training in your style. I know times have changed, but the theory still applies."

"Ah, but the rebellion is over, Himura. And obviously there wasn't a need for your services anymore since you have returned."

"But something like that might come up again, and I want to be able to protect my comrades and allies and friends."

"Then why are you asking _me_ for help? It sounds as if you already are capable of protecting them, Himura. You protected your friends and fellow soldiers in the war, and didn't lose one, am I correct?

"Yes, but—"

"You're already strong enough to protect those you care about, without any further training from me. It's time for you to start living in the present. You can't surpass your father, because you don't live under the same circumstances he did. It's too late for old men like me, but you're young. You still have a chance to build a good life for yourself in this era."

Kenji ran a hand through his hair, unable to cope with the idea that Hiko was basically asking him to give up on everything he had been pursuing for his entire life.

"But what about the Oniwabanshu? They still train to fight."

"True, they continue to train and become stronger in these changing times. But they also embrace the Meiji era for what it is, and don't cause unnecessary battles during the newly restored peace. Besides, if you're so concerned with protecting others, don't you think you should be training in your mother's style?"

Kenji opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. Hiko was right. At the beginning of the war he had been obsessed with power, and becoming better than his father. But by the end of those horrendous years, his focus had shifted from himself to others. He still kept surpassing his father as one of his primary goals, but perhaps becoming more powerful wasn't the way to do it. All he had to do to be better than that man, at least in his mind, was avoid hurting those he cared about. He didn't need the Hiten Mitsurugi for that. Hiko was right. The style he had been avoiding since childhood because of what he considered weakness was now perfect for him.

He glanced at his former master, surprised at the man's perception. But Hiko said nothing to acknowledge the realization Kenji had just had.

"You can live here until you find a permanent home," he said simply, then stood and disappeared into his hut.

Kenji leaned back to watch the stars again. That settled it. As soon as possible, he would return to Tokyo and train with Yahiko in the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, assuming that Yahiko still held the position as its master. Besides, while he needed to begin training in his mother's style, he also needed to reacquaint himself with Yahiko and his family.

He said a silent prayer of gratitude for Hiko's words. The elder man's wisdom had helped him realize that becoming a better warrior than his father was a foolish dream now. He frowned. He still hated the man for everything he had done to his mother, but he really could become better than that without making a huge name for himself. Even after all those years in the army, he still hadn't found what he viewed as "true strength." But perhaps he had been approaching it in the wrong way. And hopefully, through this new course of returning home to learn to protect other's through his mother's style, he could finally achieve that dream.

**ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

Kenji whistled cheerfully to himself as he rummaged through the items before him, searching for necessities for his journey back to Tokyo. He had been in a consistently better mood since his decision to return home, much to the surprise of Hiko, who was used to a bitter and arrogant adolescent haunting his home.

He picked out a gi from the store he was currently in, paying the owner with a gracious smile. Then he stepped back onto the street, taking a deep, refreshing breath, and moving on to his next destination. He turned his head to scan the street for another store, but his eyes stopped short midway through their search.

His tongue caught in his throat, and a shaky smile spread across his face. The young woman that held his attention began to turn away from him, so he quickly cupped both hands to his mouth and yelled in her direction.

"Chizuru!"

She glanced over her shoulder tentatively, apparently not sure if she had truly heard someone call her name. Her engaging eyes skimmed the masses for a few moments, and she shrugged to herself and almost continued away when her eyes froze at a point near Kenji's waist. He glanced down, and realized that she had somehow noticed the sakabatou. When he looked back at her face, she was staring at his vivid vermillion hair. Then her gaze shifted slowly, carefully downward to his familiar, sky blue eyes, her own almond ones widened and her delicate face suddenly paled. Kenji smiled again. Recognition had dawned.

They just stood there, watching each other awkwardly for a few moments as the crowd milled around their rooted feet. Then the spell broke, and a grin that nearly split Chizuru's face in two appeared. Kenji cringed as she ran toward him, fully expecting a slap across the face and a demand to know where on earth he had been.

"Kenji!" she squealed.

She leaped at him, thrusting her arms around his neck and laughing as the force of their bodies meeting sent them spinning in circles, and Kenji's arms held her waist to prevent her from falling.

"I missed you so much!"

Kenji allowed himself to laugh as they slowly lost speed and came to a stop, though neither let go.

"I missed you too."

A man standing nearby and watching them began to cough uncomfortably. At first both ignored him, but when Chizuru glanced in his direction she quickly saw the problem. His eyes were fixed on Kenji's sword.

Sighing to herself, she acted quickly and grabbed Kenji's wrist, dragging him out of the streets to a place he immediately recognized.

He turned his eyes to observe the interior of the Aoiya as they slipped inside. He grinned. This place hadn't changed at all.

"Kenji, you have to be more careful!"

"What?" he whined.

"You can't just wander the streets with a sword here! Don't make a habit of it, all right?"

Kenji relaxed as she smiled, shaking her head and dismissing the issue. She took a step backward and placed her hands on her hips, tipping her head to the side.

"What?"

"It's just amazing to see you again. I'm so glad you're all right."

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a small smile. "Same here."

They paused as footsteps resounded from another room, and another familiar voice echoed in Kenji's ears.

"Chizuru, is that you?"

Misao stepped into the room, brushing a stand of gray hair out of her face.

Her eyes stopped on Kenji, and she was obviously surprised to see Chizuru alone in the inn with a strange man, as she promptly dropped the basket of food in her arms.

Chizuru glanced at Kenji and smiled, then moved toward Misao and bent down to gather the scattered food. Misao just continued watching Kenji with wide eyes, placing a hand on Chizuru's shoulder after a few moments to stop her. Her small mouth fell open slightly, and a piercing squeal burst forth from her lips.

"Kenji!"

She unexpectedly leaped across the room, almost faster than Kenji could follow, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"Misao—I can't breathe . . ."

She released him and stepped back, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder.

"Oh Kenji, where the heck have you been all this time?"

He chuckled at her enthusiasm as she backed up, taking a better look at him. "You sure have grown up on me."

"Misao? Misao, are you all right?"

Kenji turned to see Aoshi entering the room, followed closely by the rest of the Oniwabanshu that he remembered so fondly. But there was someone new . . .

"And who is this?" he questioned after being re-introduced to his friends by an animated Misao. The kunoichi turned loving eyes on the little girl Kenji was watching.

"This is Asuka," she replied, rubbing the little girl's head. Asuka giggled and ran behind Aoshi, peeking out at the redheaded stranger.

"Asuka, this is Himura Kenji. He's an old friend of your father's and mine."

Kenji nearly choked. "F-Father?" _Aoshi?_ _A father? That's right . . . Misao was pregnant when I left._ Upon a closer look, however, he saw the obvious resemblance. The little girl had short black hair, the color a characteristic gained from both of her parents. But her eyes were miniature versions of those of Aoshi, just as drastic and powerful, but happier and not as cold. She giggled at the awed look on his face.

"Are you a ninja?" she questioned suddenly.

Kenji smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm not. Are you?"

Asuka grinned. "No, but I'm going to be one someday, just like Otou-san and Okaa-san!"

Misao grinned widely at that comment, and glanced at her husband. Aoshi was just watching their daughter, allowing the smallest of smiles to be seen on his lips.

Kenji looked back up at Misao.

"How old is she?"

"Five."

"Five . . ." he mused, shaking his head. I really have been gone for a long time."

Well, there you have it. I know it wasn't much, but at least they're together once again. Next Chapter: Foreign Emotions.


	17. Foreign Emotions

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters.

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 17: Foreign Emotions**

Kenji smiled as he sat down outside the Aoiya, finally able to relax. He had joined the Oniwabanshu for dinner, and spent the rest of the evening washing dishes after he had volunteered to help clean up. It was nice to just sit down and enjoy the heat of dying sun on his skin.

Asuka was playing several yards from him, chasing a bright red ball bouncing away from her. It came to a halt as it bumped gently into the well, and Asuka gathered it up in greedy hands. At that point she looked up and noticed Kenji, and impulsively tossed her plaything to him, giggling. Kenji caught it easily with one hand, and Asuka clapped her hands in glee.

"Throw it back! Throw it back!"

Kenji complied, chuckling to himself as she caught it and threw it to him again, engaging the two of them in a game of catch.

Their innocent game soon turned to a more violent pastime, however. Asuka had laughed delightedly the first time Kenji allowed her to hit him in the head, and the swordsman soon found himself under a vicious onslaught from the little girl and her ball. Her accuracy and raw power was astounding, but less so when he considered who she had been raised by. She would be a powerful and intimidating ninja someday, despite her now childish mentality.

He buckled over in mock pain as the red ball struck him in the stomach, inspiring a spree of unrestrained giggles from the five-year-old in front of him.

_Only Aoshi's daughter would gain so much amusement from watching someone else in pain._

Asuka crept slowly forward when Kenji fell to the ground and didn't move, her powerful eyes wide and inquisitive.

"Himura-san? Are you all right?"

Kenji waited until she was mere inches from him, then turned over and swept the little girl up in his arms before she could protest. She let out a series of delighted screams as he tickled her mercilessly.

"Misao!"

Kenji stopped abruptly as he saw that Asuka's mother had emerged from the Aoiya, a crooked grin on her lips. He let Asuka slip gently to the ground, who scampered promptly inside, and gave Misao an embarrassed smile.

"Uh, sorry, I swear I didn't hurt her—"

"You're just like your father, you know." Kenji looked up in surprise, thrown off by the seemingly random interruption.

"You should have seen him when he played with Suzume and Ayame," the kunoichi elaborated, "it's no wonder your mother loved him."

Kenji looked away, frowning for the first time since he had returned to the Aoiya. "Well at least he was a good father figure for _someone_."

"Oh Kenji, don't tell me you're still bitter about—"

"Don't patronize me Misao," Kenji cut in, glaring at her acidly. "I saw a lot of terrible things in the rebellion that wouldn't have happened if not for my father and this government he created. I have no reason to forgive him."

"Kenji, people aren't perfect! You can't pin the flaws of others on your father! You have no idea what Japan was like before the revolution, all the _good_ your father did—"

"I don't want to hear it, Misao."

Misao watched the young swordsman regretfully and shook her head. The two sat in silence momentarily, Misao pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them with a sigh.

"Misao, can I ask you something?"

"I can't really stop you."

He ignored her empty tone. "How was Chizuru when she got back?"

Misao looked at him with appraising eyes. "How do you _think_ she was, Kenji? She had just lost her brother. She was a mess."

"But she seems so happy now—"

"Yes. She's made an exceptional recovery since then, thankfully." She watched him out of the corner of her eye with mischievous curiosity. "She's still incredibly reluctant to talk about what happened with _you_ there, though."

Kenji's mind shot to their separation when he had run away, to that impulsive kiss whose origin he still didn't understand.

"Really."

With a deep breath he was able to prevent himself from blushing. Misao almost appeared disappointed.

"Will you be staying with us?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, let me know if you change your mind."

Kenji heard a shoji slide quietly shut behind him and sighed. He had forgotten about that . . .

Just minutes later Kenji sighed once again, though this time in contentment. He was wandering slowly home, or more specifically, to Hiko's home, when he spotted her down the street.

_Ah, Chizuru . . ._

When she had first shown up in China he had been terrified of the changes she had undergone over the years. But now he knew for sure. Despite the various changes on the outside, her inner being had been left intact. She was still just as stubborn, as idealistic, and as curious as ever. And she was so incredibly beautiful.

The contemplative smile faded gradually, and his eyebrows knitted closer in dismay.

_Who on earth is _he?

He suddenly noted that Chizuru was dressed in the most ornate, decorative, and colorful kimono he had ever seen her wear. Her black hair was pulled up in gleaming and complicated twists, and adorned with a large and elegant white flower. And a _man_ had just appeared at her side.

He looked normal enough. He was wearing typical western clothes and looked to be maybe a year younger then Kenji, closer to Chizuru's age. His short black hair was neatly combed, his dark eyes fixed through glass lenses on the face of the young woman in front of him, holding a degree of emotion Kenji recognized to be beyond friendship.

Chizuru's angelic laughter echoed down the street, and the man, smiling, placed one arm comfortably around her shoulders, beginning to lead her away.

_Well they're certainly friendly enough_.

Kenji silenced the vulgar protests that instinctively rose to his mouth and turned sharply on his heel to go the other way. He didn't want to be held responsible for what he might do to the man if he was forced to meet him.

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

Kenji glowered under Hiko's mocking laughter.

"It's not funny, Hiko."

The old man's hearty guffaws eventually subsided, and he glanced at Kenji, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah, Himura, who are you to criticize the man she's fallen in love with? After all, _you're_ the one that ran away from her affections all those years ago."

Kenji felt his stomach drop. _In love with?_

"I suppose it makes sense that you're jealous, you were rather close friends, weren't you?"

Kenji's eyes flew up to meet those of the other man, dumbstruck. "Hiko, I'm . . . I'm not _jealous_."

The old swordsman smiled and shook his head, looking down. "Then why are you so adamant in your dislike toward this man you have yet to even meet?"

"Because, I . . . well—"

"You must be regretting that decision to run away from her."

Kenji cut off his next retort and stopped, turning his wide-eyed gaze on the fire. His shoulders slumped.

"_Am_ I regretting it?"

He didn't realize that he'd spoken aloud until Hiko answered him.

"Only you can figure that out. But if you ask me, I'd say you've got stronger feelings for the girl than you've thus far let yourself admit."

Without another word the hoary-haired swordsman lifted himself and stretched, turning to his home to retire for the night. Kenji sat pensively for several hours afterward, gazing with confused and clouded azure eyes into the dancing red flames.

**ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

Himura Kenji awoke later than normal the next morning. The sun was well above the eastern horizon when he emerged into daylight, dressed in a simple teal gi and white hakama. The sakabatou remained in its sheath that morning. He didn't feel like practicing.

He wandered aimlessly into the city, no specific destination in mind. If he went to the Aoiya he would have to face either more pestering about forgiving his father or the reality that Chizuru had chosen another man. Both seemed intolerably nauseating at the moment. And he hadn't realized until now that there was almost nowhere else for him to go. He wasn't cowardly enough to go drown his sorrows in liquor, and besides, he had a pitifully low amount of money. So he found himself wandering for the first time since his return to Japan, which, although it had only been a few days ago, seemed like an eternity past.

"Kenji?"

He jumped at the unexpected voice, and turned to find the very object of his current torture standing just behind him. She was wearing yellow today . . .

She grinned happily as he turned around.

_Why does she have to do that?_

"Would you like to walk with me?"

Kenji found himself unable to deny her. "Sure, Chizuru."

He smiled bitterly as she slipped her arm through his, and walked by her side in silence down the street. After they had passed the first few buildings, however, she turned her head to look at him, a question that had been nagging at her since his return finally rising to the surface.

"Kenji, there's something I need to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Well, what exactly happened back in China? Why did you have to run away after Soichiro . . ." she trailed off.

He stared forward, his eyes focused like two blue stones set in a statue's face.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Chizuru."

She frowned. "Why? I don't understand, Kenji. Are you actually on the run like the other soldiers said?"

"It doesn't concern you," he answered with a grimace, "please just forget about it."

"Kenji, you can tell me the truth—"

"You wouldn't understand."

If Kenji had allowed it, the conversation would have ended there. But he didn't want this opportunity to end sourly, so perhaps unwisely made an attempt to change the subject.

"What about you, Chizuru? What have you been doing since you came back?"

"Nothing very interesting, at least not for someone as wise and mature as _you_."

Kenji decided to ignore the sarcasm and take the plunge.

"I saw you with a young man in town yesterday. A friend?"

She was caught off guard. "Oh, you mean Takashi. He's, well—" she paused.

"More than just a friend?"

Chizuru looked up at Kenji uncomfortably, but soon a vengeful smile had overtaken her face.

"It doesn't concern you," she mocked, "just forget about it."

"Chizuru, don't be like this. I was just asking out of concern for a friend. I don't think you should spend too much time with such a lowlife—"

This time she stared directly at him with stunned disbelief.

"You actually have the audacity to say something like that to me?"

Kenji groaned internally. _Here it comes._

"Concern?" she continued, "for a friend? My well-being didn't seem to bother you when you left for Tokyo for you precious _training_ without even saying goodbye. You didn't tell me when you joined the army, either. I found out from Misao!"

"Chizuru, I was a lot younger back then, I didn't know what I was doing—"

"I was younger too, but I would have told you about it if I was going to _China_."

She stopped in a huff to catch her breath, her cheeks rosy in her anger. She took a deep breath and continued. "I forgave you for that, though, until I came to China and saw you spending all of your time with that geisha. Then you kept getting into trouble, and ran away _again_, without even explaining yourself." Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "And you _kissed _me! You just kissed me and then disappeared—"

"And what about this 'Takashi' person?" Kenji shot back.

"What about him?"

"You sure seemed friendly for two people that hardly know each other—"

"Hardly know each other!" she exclaimed in horror. "Kenji, while you've been off 'training' for all these years, he's been _here_. I know him better than I ever knew or will know you—"

Kenji felt suddenly and abnormally cold after that comment. It was so final, so decisive. It took him a moment to realize that Chizuru was still criticizing him.

"—and how can you call him a lowlife? You've never even met him!"

"Why didn't you tell me about him in China?" he interrupted, though quietly.

She glared at him disbelievingly. "I had no obligation to share details of my personal life with you."

"Then you admit it! He _is _something more. Then is _he_ the reason you've been able to forget the loss of your brother so easily?"

Those words stung her more than anything else he could have said, and Kenji instantly regretted them. Tears sprang to her eyes, and with another glare obscured by shimmering salt water, she replied.

"What? Do you _want_ to see me suffer?"

"No, I didn't mean—"

"You know Kenji, I don't exactly see _you_ mourning for him either."

"A lot has happened since then, Chizuru. I was still in China, I was still dealing with the rebellion."

"Then what's your excuse now? I really wish you would quit making yourself into some kind of phenomenal warrior in order to justify your mistakes."

She sighed and turned away from him to wipe at her tears, and her voice dropped in volume so he had to lean forward to hear her.

"But what does it matter? It's clear that all we're ever going to do is quarrel. You removed yourself from my life twice, and I think now that it would be better if it stayed that way."

Kenji watched blankly as she walked away from him, her stinging words ringing in his ears. She was right. Who was he to intervene in her personal life because he missed the place he had once had in it? He was the coward that had abandoned their friendship. He really must have hurt her all those years ago . . .

Kenji turned in the opposite direction, suddenly feeling inexplicably exhausted. Why had he come back again?

_Sanosuke, you're an idiot._

Sorry it's taken so long; I've been working on ideas for another piece and got slightly distracted. I'd like to thank all of you who are still reading and reviewing this story, though. You're all appreciated!


	18. A New Weakness

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 18: A New Weakness**

A nervous sweat seemed to pour down his face, so much so that he felt as if he was drowning in it. His skin was cool and clammy and covered in thousands of tiny goose bumps. He tried to take a deep, calming breath, but instead ended up nearly choking on the fetid air. Something was terribly wrong.

Kenji suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was. He swung his head around in an attempt to discover his current location. It didn't take him long to recognize the river, the bridge, the nearby city.

_Why am I in Tokyo?_

The sun was shining brilliantly, not hindered by a single cloud, but for some reason everything seemed duller than normal, darker and less distinct. Despite the presence of hundreds of people just a matter of yards from the riverbank, it was silent. Kenji shuddered and turned away, his eyes frantically searching for a way out, when they stopped on a figure previously unnoticed, sitting on a log inches from the water. The man appeared in sharp contrast to his dim surroundings, clothed in a magenta gi and spotless white hakama, an all-too-familiar sword at his side. His head was bent down, and unmistakable vermillion bangs shaded his eyes from view. But Kenji didn't need to see the eyes to recognize the man. He frowned.

"Tou-san."

Apparently his voice had not accompanied him to this surreal existence, or Kenshin chose to ignore him. Either way, his attention was soon distracted from his deplored father by another familiar character from his past. He smiled gently as his mother stalked up to Kenshin, scowling. She looked much younger than he ever remembered her being. Could this have happened before she and his father had married?

He watched their short exchange with mixed feelings. Kaoru was obviously incensed about something, but it soon became clear that her greatest emotion at the moment was concern for her future husband. Kenji smiled as she "gave" Kenshin the ribbon from her hair. But then something else caught his eye. Something was coming down the river.

As the object drew closer he recognized it to be a man, standing on a raft that was traveling far too fast to be safe. Kenji shuddered as his face came into view. It wore a thoroughly demonic smile, accompanied by two dark hellish orbs with soul-piercing pupils where normal eyes should have been. Instantly Kenji knew it was the man Yahiko had told him of when Kaoru and Kenshin had refused to, the leftover killer from the Bakumatsu, Jin'e. And his Satanic excuses for eyes were fixed on Kenji's mother.

Kenji felt himself falling into a state of panic. Didn't they see him? He started to run forward to warn them, but to no avail. The hideous man on the raft got there first; two snakelike arms grabbed his mother from behind with inhuman speed, and Kenshin was forced to watch helplessly as she was pulled unwillingly away on the quick current.

"I assume this is your woman, Battousai."

Kenji froze next to the image of his father, the two redheads staring blankly in fear as Kaoru called her beloved's name. Kenji wanted to grab his father by the shoulders, to shake him and demand to know what was going on, why he wasn't going after her. But just as his arms extended to assault the man, the scenery began to disappear from under him. His father and the river faded, and suddenly he was somewhere else, a graveyard. There was his mother again, slightly older this time, and kneeling in front of a grave, crying. Then there was another man behind her, with eerie white hair and sharp glasses, attacking her from behind before she could protest and dragging her away, unconscious. His mother was a captive on an isolated island, she was seen again, violently ill, she was crying as Kenshin left; the images flitted in and out of Kenji's mind almost faster than he could follow. He clenched his eyes shut and sank to his knees, shaking his head violently to rid his memory of the pictures of the most important woman in his life suffering. Soon he vented the frustration into another emotion: anger. It was Kenshin, it was because of his father that all of these things had happened to her. How dare he . . .

Kenji's blood ran cold as he made another realization. Another scene had risen to his mind's eye, but this woman . . . that wasn't his mother. He squinted and stepped forward toward the sobbing woman. She turned accusing, tearful eyes on him, then parted trembling lips.

"How could you do this to me?"

He stumbled backward.

_Chizuru?_

The young swordsman bolted to a sitting position, gasping heavily for air. Soon he recognized that he was back in Hiko's cabin. It had been a dream.

Hiko sat watching him from a few feet away, his mouth curved upward in a sorrowfully ironic smile.

"Nightmares about the past?" he questioned quietly. "You really are abnormally like your father."

This time, Kenji didn't scowl upon hearing the comparison to Kenshin. It still upset him, but this time for very different reasons. He turned to his former master, extremely agitated.

"Hiko-san, am I really that much like my father?"

Hiko chuckled. "Of course. No matter how much you hate it, you were nearly identical as adolescents, both so foolhardy and stubborn and determined to become as strong as possible. Then you both ran off to war, and although I doubt you have regrets as intense as his were, it obviously wrought a lot of changes in you. And now here you are, years later, just as clueless and hopeless in love as he was." The man's smile faded by a barely discernable degree. "It's unnerving, really, watching you grow up so much like him."

Kenji didn't bother to disagree and sank desperately against one wall, passing one hand across his face.

_Why did she look at me like that? As if I had done something wrong . . ._

Hiko's words echoed in his befuddled mind, and he was forced to admit what he had been avoiding almost since infancy.

_I really am like Tou-san, aren't I? Look at what I'm carrying because of the rebellion. Kaa-san suffered so much because of his mistakes. Chizuru . . . I'll end up hurting her too. It isn't safe for her to be close to me. I'm a wanted man._

He smiled bitterly as he recalled their conversation earlier that day. _I suppose it's best that she wants me out of her life. It will be better this way._ He sighed contentedly, finally relaxing.

_Yes, she'll be safe this way, as soon as I'm in Tokyo._

"Hungry?"

Kenji glanced at Hiko and willingly took the bowl of soup extended toward him, his thoughts busy with plans to return home as soon as possible, until a soft knock on the door brought both of their heads up.

Misao entered at Hiko's short welcome, her eyes immediately traveling to Kenji.

"You had an argument with Chizuru, didn't you."

He nodded, sighing.

"I thought you might have gotten to her," she replied, seating herself next to him. She leaned forward to examine his face, and saw the small red scar just under his eye. A quiet chuckle proceeded from her lips.

_So that's where she punched him._

"What makes you say that?" Kenji said, trying to ignore her slightly disconcerting amusement at what was left of his injury.

"Chizuru just informed Aoshi that she wants to be trained to become a member of the Oniwabanshu."

Kenji glanced at the kunoichi in surprise. "Really? That doesn't seem like her."

Misao just nodded. "And do you know what she said when he asked why?"

"What?"

"She answered, rather bitterly, actually, that she was tired of being viewed as a naïve little girl. And of course I knew that you _never_ could have said something to make her feel that way."

Kenji smiled at her painfully obvious sarcasm. So Chizuru was trying to prove something to him. _I guess it isn't really that surprising after everything I said . . . here _and_ in China._

"So what brought that on?"

Kenji shrugged. "I was just trying to make a point. I don't know how we always end up fighting."

Misao grinned, shaking her head. "Well, you had better be of to Tokyo soon." She poked him teasingly on the face, making him flinch. "After all, I didn't know it was possible for Chizuru to get so angry. Just imagine what she'll do to you once she gets a hold of a kodachi and a few kunai!"


	19. A Delay of Separation

Disclaimer: I still don't own it. Nope.

**When Sakura Blossoms Fall**

**Chapter 19: A Delay of Separation**

Kenji meandered slowly toward the Aoiya, his feelings mixed between awe and frustration toward one of its occupants. He couldn't help feeling mixed relief and regret about what had happened between he and Chizuru. He had unconsciously accomplished the purpose he would develop after that dream: distancing her. But part of him hated leaving Kyoto while they were on such poor terms.

He sighed as he rounded a corner that led him on the street the inn was on. At least he wouldn't have to deal with it for much longer. He was leaving tomorrow, and was on his way to spending his last time with the Oniwabanshu before their goodbyes. And he was dreading every moment of it.

He stopped in mid-stride as he drew closer to the building, groaning. Chizuru and Takashi were standing just outside the inn together. Kenji had avoided meeting the despised man until now, but it only figured that he would be forced to make his acquaintance on his last day here.

He coughed uncomfortably, drawing the gazes of both. Chizuru's bright eyes widened, and she flashed him a dazzling smile, quite unlike her considering their current terms. Kenji felt the corner of his mouth turn up slightly. Maybe she had actually forgiven him.

"Oh, it's you Himura-san!"

His hopes waned at her words. Her formal way of addressing him was her way of telling him that she was as angry with him as ever. She was just acting for the sake of this _man_.

For a brief moment, Kenji felt an emotion rise within him that he hadn't felt before. It was a sort of protectiveness, as if his territory had been encroached upon. Then another thought hit him. _Hiko was right. You're jealous._

Kenji mentally kicked himself, quickly quelling the thought. That was ridiculous.

He approached the two of them, and stood patiently as Chizuru introduced her 'friend' to him.

"Himura-san, this is Oshima Takashi. Takashi," she continued, using his first name with no attempt at formality, "this is Himura Kenji, a friend of the family." Kenji didn't fail to notice that her eyes, brimming with admiration, and perhaps another emotion he refused to acknowledge, never shifted from Takashi.

Begrudgingly Kenji accepted the hand that had been offered him, though he would have preferred a simple bow, which required no physical contact. Takashi's shake was flimsy and weak. Kenji found himself barely able to restrain from smirking. This man Chizuru had chosen was no swordsman. _How fitting._

Without any further stalling, Chizuru invited them both inside, apparently enjoying the fact that her beloved Takashi had placed his arm back around her shoulders. Kenji followed the two silently, pausing in momentary surprise as Oshima glanced at him over his shoulder, his face sporting an arrogant sneer.

The look faded instantly, however, as Chizuru glanced up at him, replaced by an apparently sincere and caring smile. She grinned back, and disappeared through the front door of the Aoiya appearing more happy and at peace than she had since she and Kenji were just children.

o

Kenji picked half-heartedly at the rice in front of him, most of his attention fixed on the couple kneeling across from him. Takashi had led the majority of the conversation that evening, informing them all of his _amazing_ success as a merchant and various other stories that the group, with the exception of Chizuru, bore with meager tolerance.

They had reached a momentary lull in the conversation, much to the relief of most at the table. Then, suddenly, Takashi's eyes brightened, and he looked up at all of them.

"Did you know that Chizuru here was actually considering training to be a ninja?" he asked, an incredulous look on his face. For the first time, Chizuru blushed and placed a hand on his arm in an effort to silence him, but to no avail.

He chuckled heartily. "Of course I told her that was ridiculous," Kenji noticed more than one ninja at the table twitch, "I mean, a ninja, in these times? Maybe when we were kids, but times have changed. Ninjas, samurai, or any kind of swordsmen for that matter—" Kenji noticed Takashi's eyes flick toward him for a split second before his last comment, "—they're all completely irrational. Ludicrous, really."

Chizuru smiled weakly, but the rest present were obviously incensed. Misao failed to acknowledge the surprised glances she received when one of her chopsticks snapped cleanly in half from the sheer force of her grip, but instead reacted by stabbing the food on her plate with her remaining utensil, eating much more aggressively than normal. Kenji almost snickered at the look of pent-up frustration on Aoshi's face. It was more emotion than he had ever seen the man express before. The remainder of the Oniwabanshu just responded with obvious scowls, refusing to make eye contact with the offending young man.

_Idiot. Doesn't he realize who he's eating dinner with?_

Kenji had to feign a cough in order to hide his amusement as Chizuru covered her face with a hand in shame and embarrassment. She answered his act with an angry glare. She knew what he was doing, and wouldn't stand to be mocked at a time like this. Kenji just raised his eyebrows at her unspoken accusation and pointed to himself, as if to ask, 'who, me?'

o

"Aoshi, you can't be serious."

The ninja glanced at Kenji, one eyebrow arched in surprise at his forwardness. Then he turned back to his endeavor before the interruption, polishing his best kodachi.

"I don't know what you mean, Kenji."

"Aoshi, you can't actually be _considering_ their relationship plausible!"

"I assume you're speaking of Chizuru and Oshima."

Kenji turned, throwing his arms in the air in frustration. "Who else?"

"There's no reason I shouldn't, Kenji. I'm not her father." He continued quickly before Kenji could interrupt. "He's a good young man, he can provide for her, and they care for each other. Our differences in opinion shouldn't be ground to separate them. After all, there's no one else to consider." Kenji didn't notice the long, almost disappointed glance that Aoshi gave him as he spoke those words.

Kenji would have continued his argument, but at the moment he opened his mouth, the fusama to the training room he and Aoshi stood in opened, revealing an uncharacteristically serious Chizuru. Upon seeing her apparel, Kenji quickly concluded that she was here to train, despite Oshima's claims that he had convinced her otherwise. For some reason, she had chosen a crimson gi and white hakama, instead of the typical ninja garb of women of the Oniwabanshu. Scowling at Kenji, she made her way to Aoshi to retrieve a sword. As she passed the young swordsman, he caught the soft but threatening words, "don't you dare say a word."

After Chizuru had retrieved her weapon and moved to the center of the room, following the simple instructions Aoshi gave her to go through some practice moves on her own, Kenji turned to the other man, smiling slightly.

"She's doing it anyway?"

"That man may be arrogant and ridiculous, but at least he hasn't had _that_ great of an effect on her." Aoshi picked up his own kodachi, ready to join her. He glanced once more at Kenji. "You're welcome to stay. I think you'll be impressed at how rapidly she's progressing, and an audience would do her some good." Kenji merely nodded and sat down, leaning against the wall. This would be interesting.

"Are you ready?"

Chizuru glanced apprehensively at Kenji, then back at Aoshi

"What is it?"

"Is _he_ going to stay?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, I, I just—"

"Self-consciousness is not an admirable trait in a ninja." She winced slightly at the barb and glanced at Kenji once more, chagrined to see that a small smile curled his lips and he was trying desperately not to laugh.

"But he's laughing at me," she quietly protested. Of course, the smile mysteriously disappeared as Aoshi turned to look at Kenji.

"You're being ridiculous, Chizuru. Now let's begin."

Aoshi made a motion as if to attack her, a simple one, but Kenji was still surprised as Chizuru nearly effortlessly blocked it. They continued, Chizuru responding somewhat hesitantly to his motions. Her skill was obvious, thought both men could tell that she wasn't at her best.

"You're distracted," Aoshi stated simply as she barely dodged a second-rate swing.

"No I'm not."

"Chizuru, stop."

She did so, breathing more heavily than she should have been after such a short period.

Aoshi shook his head. "Progress is hopeless as long as you remain in your current state of mind. We'll try again tomorrow."

"But—"

"Don't argue. Further training at this point is useless."

Disappointment was visible on her face as she sat her kodachi aside and left the room.

"That was a bit harsh," Kenji commented from his position on the floor. Then again, he shouldn't have expected Aoshi to make any exceptions to his harsh honesty in training, even for Chizuru.

"She needed it." He turned to Kenji. "Kenji, I know you were planning on returning to Tokyo soon, but is there any way I could convince you to stay for just a little while longer and continue coming to her training sessions? If she doesn't at least get used to other people watching her fight, she'll never improve and become a notable ninja."

"But why me?"

"She's too used to everyone else around here. You're the only one that really seems to bother her."

Kenji didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, so he decided to ignore it, just shrugging and sighing. How long could it take, anyway?

"I guess."

Aoshi gave him a grateful nod. "Maybe while we're at it, with our combined effort we can convince her not to marry that idiot Oshima."

Kenji stared blankly through the open fusama as Aoshi disappeared, his blue eyes oddly unfocused.

"_Marry_?"

o

Chizuru reacted similarly the next day when she walked in to find Kenji sitting in the same position against the wall, ready to observe. She glanced desperately at Aoshi, who just tossed her weapon to her.

It took a few weeks, but eventually both Kenji and Aoshi noticed a clear change in her. Kenji's presence became a triviality, and she was just as focused and controlled as she would have been if he had been absent. She would be an intimidating ninja someday in her own right.

Kenji noticed a change within himself, as well. What had initially been an inconvenience had almost become enjoyable. He knew perfectly well that he was hardly worthy of speaking to her anymore on friendly terms, considering the insulting things he had said to her in the past. But during her training sessions, he was at least able to be around her, without also having to endure the odious Oshima. And after everything he had been through, watching an innocent person just learn, without any ulterior motives, was highly refreshing. Before he knew it was happening, he was valuing and appreciating her more than he ever had before. But he didn't allow it to show. After all, he didn't want to end up getting close to her again after that hideously foreboding dream. Besides, he sensed that he would inevitably be leaving soon anyway. He wouldn't be needed much longer.


End file.
